


Love in a Dead World

by ohpleaselarry



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Crankiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, Death, Denial, Depression, Fingering, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hidden Feelings, Kissing, Lots and Lots of Death, M/M, Smut, So much kissing, crankiplier - Freeform, descriptions of death, dont worry they don’t die though, ethans bottom af and if you disagree you prob shouldn’t read my shit, handjobs, more cuddling than I’ve ever written lmao, pls forgive my gay sins, why am I still tagging haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 38,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22556188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohpleaselarry/pseuds/ohpleaselarry
Summary: 10 months ago, a disease killed off nearly everyone alive. Ethan fights to survive in a diseased world, no hope to see anyone he knew again. It would take a miracle to find a familiar face..alive anyway.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor, Markiplier / CrankGamePlays
Comments: 69
Kudos: 471





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is very obviously heavily inspired by the walking dead lmao, as you’ll probably notice I use the slang and the way the zambies work. Also if you like mental visuals imagine Westport as Woodbury (without the corrupt leader and tanks of heads lmao). I didn’t use a W place on purpose to make it similar. I knew before even starting this that I wanted it to take place in Washington on the coast in a small town. Westport’s the closest one to Oregon. It just happened that way haha.
> 
> If anyone is wondering the book mentioned is Something Borrowed by Emily Giffin. It’s not heavily mentioned but anyway. I’d recommend all of her books tbh.
> 
> Amy and Mika’s names changed out of respect. This is the same every fic where they exist but i dont know I just feel like I gotta let yall know if anyone’s new round here.
> 
> There’s no full fledged smut. Didn’t feel right for any of the scenes so I didn’t force it.
> 
> Also, a happy ending for once! Yall enjoy haha.
> 
> PS: just looked back and realised this is the second longest fic I’ve written on this site. Just thought that was cool as my usual fics average around 11k words :)

“Ethan, look.”

Ethan sits up from the reclined seat and looks out the window, just in time for the ‘Leaving California’ sign. He smiles sadly. The ‘Welcome to Oregon’ sign quickly follows, and Ethan lies back down with a sigh. 

“You okay?” Alex asks, his brown eyes looking worried. For a buff as hell ex military guy, he sure is soft sometimes. Empathetic. It’s nice. 

“Yeah, given the circumstances.” Ethan rolls onto his side and musters a smile at the man, who smiles back. 

When Alex looks back at the road, Ethan lets his smile fall. He tries not to think about everything too much, but this is their best car they’ve had since the disease spread. Most of the ones they get either break down or run out of gas before they can siphon some more. It’s been hard, of course. 

“I just can’t believe we’re finally out of Cali. I feel like I can’t even remember what a road trip was like.” Ethan murmurs. Alex smiles sadly and pats his leg. 

“I know. We’ve made it this far. We’ll be in Washington in no time. You should sleep. When’s the last time you had a good rest?”

Ethan rolls onto his back, wishing he could sleep. They’re always low on energy, having to sleep with one eye open nowadays. It’s been one hell of an experience. 

When the disease broke out 10 months ago, Ethan and Miley had stayed inside with Spencer for as long as their food supply allowed. The power and phone lines had gone down weirdly almost immediately, meaning they couldn’t call anyone they knew. Eventually, they had to get more food. Ethan, deciding inside=safe, had made Miley stay home with Spencer while he went out on the first run. 

LA, as overcrowded as it was, had turned into straight hell. Walkers lined the streets like nobody’s business. Ethan had nothing but a baseball bat to protect himself as he snuck over fences and through backyards into people’s homes. His car wasn’t stolen surprisingly but he knew the noise would attract them, so he stayed on foot. He found his small backpack’s worth of canned foods and dog food for Spencer. He’d only been gone for maybe an hour. Just a short little hour. 

When he’d gotten home, they were gone. The house was torn into. The front door was open, though it’d been locked with the deadbolt. Did Miley try to come after him and tell him something? Did Spencer somehow lift the cover off the doggy door and get out? Ethan will never know. 

All he knew was he had to survive. His house was overrun by Walkers, and Ethan didn’t have the weapons or strength to get through them to get anything from his home. 

So with just the clothes on his back and the backpack of food, Ethan took his car and drove as far as he could. The traffic was horrendous, with thousands of abandoned cars all over the highways. Ethan had made it just out of LA when his car ran out of gas in the middle of the highway. 

He stayed in his car for a week, eating the canned foods and only getting out to piss. The highway seemed to be free of walkers, but Ethan only had a baseball bat to defend himself. Not to mention he was emotionally weak, grieving literally everyone he knew. Before, he had Miley and Spencer for comfort when he thought of his friends and family who were most likely all dead. Then, he was alone. Alone with his thoughts. 

He probably would’ve died if Alex didn’t ride up on a motorcycle when Ethan had happened to be outside taking a piss. 

Alex, ex military, 35. He looked incredibly intimidating with nothing but muscles and a whopping _five_ guns strapped to himself and in his bike bags, but he’d gotten off of his bike and took Ethan in like a stray dog. 

From then on, it was the two of them. They’d found a halfway decent spot hidden in the woods a few miles up from LA. It was quiet. Alex straight up made them bows and taught Ethan how to hunt. Which of course Alex knew how to do. He taught Ethan how to fight the walkers, how to only aim for the head because it’s the only thing that will officially kill them, not that they were really alive anyway. 

Then, a week ago, a hoard of walkers drew them out of their camp for the first time in 10 months. They went as long as they could on Alex’s motorcycle, but eventually the tire went flat. They were on foot for a bit, but had to start hot-wiring cars and siphoning gas so they could keep moving. They went through two different cars before they got this one, and it’s lasted them good since. 

They’ve been trying to make it to Washington. It about a 20 hour drive but they just kept having the worst car issues and only just got this car yesterday. They don’t know how the rest of the country is, of course, but Alex’s wife was from Washington, and Alex was determined to make it there and see for himself if there’s anything left of his family. 

Truly, he’d saved Ethan with nothing but the goodness of his heart, and having not seen another alive human being since the disease spread, Ethan figures he got lucky with who he came across. 

Now, he reminds himself of that. Given everything that’s happened, he _is_ lucky in a way. Alex has saved his life on multiple occasions, and he’s protected Ethan as if they’ve known each other for life. 

Letting his eyes slipped closed, Ethan finally feels safe enough to sleep. He trusts Alex with his life. They have a full tank of gas. They will be fine for now. 

-

Ethan wakes up to the car door being shut. He sits up, gasping, finding Alex stepping in holding a paper bag. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Alex asks, frowning. Ethan looks around, finding its nearly night. They’re parked in front of a petrol station. Ethan takes a deep breath, making his heart calm down. Being woken up suddenly usually isn’t a good thing these days. Ethan’s woken up to a walker in their camp before, just seconds before he could’ve been bitten. 

“You went in without me? What if there were were walkers?” Ethan uses the lever on the side of his seat to bring his seat up, watching Alex unload a bag of chips and two gatorades. 

“There were only two. Hey, I’m okay. I can defend myself. You know that.” He opens the bag of chips and sets them on Ethan’s lap. 

He sighs but begrudgingly takes a chip, unable to stay angry. They’re always hungry so the sight of new food is good. 

“Where are we at?” Ethan asks once he swallows. Alex picks up the paper map from the console between them and opens it up, showing Ethan where they are. 

“We’ve just passed Portland. We’re almost to the Washington border.” 

Ethan looks up into Washington, at the west edge of the state. 

“You said your family’s from where? West..”

“Westport. It’s just here. Small town, probably like 3 thousand people, but it’s really close. Maybe two or three hours from here.” 

Ethan nods, taking a sip of water. 

“We’ve been on the road all day. I can drive if you want to sleep.” 

Alex shakes his head, reclining his seat so he can lay down. 

“No I don’t want to get into the town at night. We don’t know what to expect. It could be overrun so we need to have light. We’ll go first thing in the morning. It’s safe here. Nice and quiet.” 

Ethan lies back down. Though he slept for the entire ride, he feels like he could easily sleep again, and he does. Nice and quiet, he remembers. They’ll be just fine he thinks. 

-

Ethan wakes up to gunshots. Alex isn’t next to him. Immediately, he’s out of the car with his handgun, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he surveys the area. They never use their guns unless it’s an emergency, as the noise attracts more. They almost always use knives or an axe. 

He turns the corner of the building and his heart climbs in his throat at what he sees. 

“E-Ethan, don’t look. Go back to the car. Go to Westport.” Alex sits up against the building, in a sweat, holding pressure against his side, blood seeping through his hand anyway. There’s three dead walkers lying around him. Ethan doesn’t need to look under Alex’s hand to know he’s been bit. 

Ethan holsters his gun and rushes to the man, dropping to his knees next to him. 

“No no no no, I’m not leaving. Oh fuck.” Ethan can’t look away from Alex’s wound. There’s blood everywhere. 

Alex takes his hand, hissing through his pain. 

“Hey, you have to go, okay? I only have a matter of time before the fever starts. I’m not going to turn. I don’t want you to see it. Shhh, Ethan, look at me.” 

Ethan’s trying, but everything’s blurry. He then realises it’s because he’s crying. He wipes his eyes so he can see. 

“Go to Westport. If it’s overrun, take the car and try to make your way East. Go to Maine, or to Ohio. See if your family and friends are alive. I’ve taught you everything I know. You can survive on your own until you find more people.” 

Ethan shakes his head and sobs, holding onto Alex tightly as if that will cure him of the disease that’s spreading through him. 

“I can’t do this on my own. Please don’t go.” Ethan babbles, wiping his eyes every few seconds but unable to stop the constant flow of tears. Alex reaches into his pocket and pulls out the wallet he still carries for some reason. He slips out a photo Ethan’s never seen. It’s Alex from before, posing with a pretty blonde woman and a young equally as blonde little girl. It’s a family portrait. Alex has told him about his wife and daughter, but never showed him the photo. 

Ethan takes the photo and slips it into his pocket. 

“I’m starting to sweat, Ethan. I need you to go. I’m going to pass out within a few minutes so I need to do it before then. Hey, I love you, man. You don’t give up, okay? Keep going for me.” 

Ethan nods, and hugs him tightly. He’s warmer than usual. The fever is kicking in. 

“I love you too. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Alex just smiles. He doesn’t seem to be in pain anymore. He reaches next to him for his pistol and watches Ethan walk slowly away, glancing back at him with every step until he rounds the corner. 

Ethan gets into the drivers seat of the car, eyes stinging. He waits there, heart hammering in his chest as he stares numbly at the road next to the vehicle. 

A single gunshot. Ethan, knowing it was coming, still jumps in surprise. He takes a lot of deep breaths so he doesn’t start to hyperventilate, and takes the photo from his pocket. He doesn’t let himself cry anymore. He sets the photo in front of the speedometer and opens the map next to him so he knows the way. 

Pulling out of the lot, Ethan doesn’t let himself look down the side of the building. He doesn’t want to see Alex how he knows he is. Slumped against the brick with a hole in his head. 

Instead, Ethan drives away. 

-

The full tank they once had was quickly dwindled driving across all of oregon, so about thirty minutes after crossing the Washington border, the car slows to a stop. 

“Fuck.” Ethan whispers, looking around at his surroundings. He’s taking the highway, which has gotten slowly less and less crowded as he’s gone. Now, it’s just the clear road surrounded by trees. It looks to be around 9AM, so Ethan has plenty of daylight for the hour or so walk ahead of him. 

Luckily, Alex had found a nice camper’s bag a few months back that fits everything they own (not that it’s much)

Ethan makes sure his piece is fully loaded and sets foot, carrying the map and an axe. As he walks, he tries not to think too much. Losing everyone around him was enough for a lifetime. Then losing the one person he had during this shit diseased world was a whole other thing. Does anyone else even exist? 

To be perfectly honest, Ethan didn’t have much hope. As he walked, he wasn’t on high alert. He fully expected Westport to be full of walkers, no humans in sight just like everywhere else he’s been. Maybe he’s just grieving, but a walker could’ve probably just casually stepped out of the woods and Ethan probably would’ve just lied down and let it happen. 

Alas, he pushes on. 

An hour and an additional thirty minutes later (due to his kind of sluggish pace) Ethan gets to the Westport sign. He looks around, finding trees still surrounding him, but they fade off ahead. He can sort of see some buildings ahead, but not really a town.

Peeking into buildings as he walks on, he finds that all of these business were picked clean, no supplies remaining, and large red x’s on the doors with spray paint. 

Turning onto another road, Ethan finds himself faced with two walkers. He’s really tired but he approaches them, axe at the ready. 

Swinging, he takes down the first walker with a headshot. The other, he has to swing at it’s chest to get it down first, then he swings at its head, finishing the job. 

Afterwards, he sits there in the road, catching his breath as he watches the blood drip off the axe blade. 

He doesn’t have much strength anymore, but he uses what’s left to stand back up and continue on. He really needs water and food. 

Ethan walks down presumably the main road, finding that a small town definitely has it better. There’s not many abandoned vehicles around. Most of the buildings aren’t riddles with broken windows from being looted. His head pounds and he can feel the walker blood drying on his face. He’s too tired to wipe it off. 

Ethan can hear the ocean it’s so quiet. 

He turns the corner onto the next street, and there’s a wall. It’s made of what seems to be sandbags and wood pallets and such. There’s a gate in the middle fit for a truck. The street seems to be mostly apartment buildings, with the wall going next to and what looks like behind the buildings on both sides of the road. 

But what makes Ethan stop in his tracks is the sight of the two people. Two men, holding guns. they stand atop the wall, keeping guard. 

Ethan drops his axe and holds up his hands in surrender. Both men stand in attention at the clanging noise of the axe, guns pointing to him. 

“Are you bit?!” One of them yells across the distance. 

“No! I’m just dehydrated and malnourished! I’ve been travelling here from LA for a week!” Ethan yells back. He’s dizzy as hell, and shoulders off his heavy bag so he isn’t using so much energy. 

The men lower their guns and say something to each other. Ethan can’t hear it over the distance. He takes a deep breath, trying to make the white spots in his vision disappear. 

“Why come all the way here?” They call. 

“I was with a man who’s family lived here before! He..he—“ Ethan feels a rush of vertigo, and he’s out cold, collapsing on the ground. 

-

When Ethan comes to, he’s lying in a bed in a small room. There’s an IV in his arm and a woman standing at the window a few feet away. 

Ethan sits up slowly, groaning. The woman turns and rushes to his bedside, helping him sit up gently. 

“Hey, hey, take it easy, kid. You were severely dehydrated. You wouldn’t have lasted two more days the way you were going.” She’s got a thick southern accent. She seems to be maybe mid 40s. Ethan hasn’t seen a human female in 10 months. 

“How long have I been out? Where am I at?” Ethan asks, thanking her as she hands him a small cup of water. 

“A day. It’s about 8AM right now. You slept the entire time. You’re in Westport in our medical building. My name is Dr. Dawn.” She takes the IV from his arm. It hurts but it’s not bad. She places a bandaid there and helps him stand up slowly. Despite his long sleep, Ethan feels wide awake. He’s wearing what seems to be scrubs, and he’s clean. He can smell the soap on himself. He refrains from asking who the hell changed and bathed him while he was asleep. He frankly doesn’t care. It just feels so good to be clean for once. 

She hands him his pair of Vans he had in the bag, so he slips them on. 

“Where’s my stuff? My guns?” 

Dr. Dawn just helps him over to the window so he can look out. Ethan squints through the light. Once his eyes adjust, he finds he’s a story or two up. Down below, people walk about, carrying baskets of things or playing with a child in the road. Over the building across the street, Ethan can see the ocean. 

“Sorry, we have your guns put away. We don’t really know you or if you’re dangerous. I hope you’ll understand.” 

Ethan nods, though he wonders how anyone could see him as dangerous. With all the scavenging for food he and Alex had to do, Ethan’s lost a good bit of weight. He’s tiny now, and the only muscle he still has is from fighting. He’s pretty sure the scrubs he’s wearing is a size small, and they’re big on him even. 

“Are you in charge around here? I just have a lot of questions.” Ethan says sheepishly. She smiles and takes his arm, leading him out of the room. 

“No, but I’ll take you to the big man after. We need to see someone first. You were found with a photo of Alex Young. Did you know him?” She asks as she helps him down two flights of stairs and down a long hallway. 

“Yeah...he was with me up until yesterday. He was the one who told me about this place. He wanted to know if his family was alive. He..he’s really the only reason I survived this long.” Ethan’s heart aches as he talks, tears springing to his eyes. He doesn’t let himself cry, but Dr. Dawn pats his back anyway. 

“I’m so sorry. His mother is here, and his sister and nephew. His sister helps out with newcomers, and she found the photo. They asked if they could meet you as soon as you woke.” 

They step through the exit of the building, and Ethan exhales shakily as he looks around. All the people..they’re human. And smiling. And working as if nothing’s happened. 

“I’d love to meet them as well.” He murmurs. They make their way down the road, towards what Dr. Dawn explains is the apartments where everyone stays. It’s a huge tall building, no doubt with enough rooms for everyone here. 

They near the building. Ethan’s looking around, taking in the town feeling, remembering what it’s like to just see people, when his eyes flit over a tuft of dark hair. His heart skips a beat, but he shakes his head at himself, not letting his eyes fail him and give him false hope. 

Then, the dark haired person steps forward from behind the tall man between them, and Ethan stops, not even noticing Dr. Dawn squeaking in surprise as she’s abruptly yanked back. 

The man stands with a group of people, arms wildly motioning as he explains something, a pencil stuck onto his ear. He’s gained some muscle that’s clearly showing through the flannel he’s wearing. The group of people with him are listening attentively, and one young woman is even taking notes on a small notepad. 

Ethan’s knees buckle a bit, and Dr. Dawn holds him up. 

“Woah, take it easy, you’re still recovering. Should we sit for a moment?” 

Ethan barely hears her. He realises he’s holding his breath. As he exhales, he feels strong again. He steps forward, pulling carelessly away from Dr. Dawn and takes off, not even hearing her call after him. 

“ _Mark_ !” He yells with all his strength to the man across the street as he runs. His quick pace is probably hurting him but his heart is beating so loudly in his ears that he doesn’t even notice. 

Mark looks up at the sound of his name, eyes immediately landing on him. He freezes, eyes widening, and quickly hands someone in the group a clipboard he was holding. 

Ethan reaches him just as his hands are free, and crashes into him like a car accident. Mark hugs him so tightly that Ethan’s feet come up from the ground, easily taking the crash as if Ethan weighs nothing, which he probably does. 

Ethan’s just crying like a lunatic, one hand balled up in Mark’s shirt and the other circled around him. If it weren’t for Mark holding him up, he’s sure he would be on the ground. He can’t even feel his knees. 

“Oh my god, Ethan, I thought you were dead.” Mark’s voice is shaky, but it’s exactly the same. So familiar. A voice he heard everyday before. A voice he hasn’t heard in 10 long months. It just makes Ethan cry a bit harder. He blames it on his recovering state. He’s not the strongest in that moment. 

“I thought _you_ were dead! Fuck, I’m gonna pass out.” Ethan’s then being pulled away into the building next to them. Through a hall and into what seems to be the common area of an apartment. He’s sat up on a counter top in the kitchen, where Mark then reaches into a cabinet and gets him a bottle of water. 

Mark just stands there watching him drink, wiping his own wet eyes. 

“Seeing familiar faces usually isn’t good these days. Fuck, Ethan, I tried to get to your house. I tried for days. There were just too many of them. The biters. How did you get here? When did you leave?” Mark babbles on, keeping at least on hand on him the entire time, like he can’t believe he’s real. Can’t believe his own eyes. 

Ethan can relate. He calms down a bit and drinks the water. 

“It was me, Miley, and Spencer for a while. We stayed inside and never left. Eventually we needed food so I tried to go get some and when I got back..t-they were gone. I left LA and met a guy-Alex- who has family here. He’s really what kept me alive this whole time—I can’t believe you’re actually here. How did we both happen to go to the same state? The same tiny ass town?” 

Mark shakes his head with a smile and steps between his legs, hugging him again. Ethan can barely remember the days of recording videos, when just the slightest touch would cause Mark to jokingly say ‘don’t touch me’. Times have changed, that’s for sure. 

“There’s a woman here, I believe the sister of this Alex. She said that Westport was evacuated pretty much immediately and told LA would have a military safe camp. We all just happened to find each other and made our way back, knowing it would be abandoned. I think your Alex got left behind like most of the town did. There were maybe two or three biters when we got here. Completely safe.” 

“He’s sugarcoating it,” Dr. Dawn steps into the room, smiling, “he took in anyone he could. He’s saved every life here, reinvented this town so we could live easier, and told us exactly how to make that wall out there. He’s rightfully deserved the role as our leader and every person here would agree.”

Ethan raises an eyebrow. 

“You’re the big man?” 

Mark laughs a bit, shrugging as if he doesn’t love it. 

“I didn’t decide that. It just kind of happened. People recognised me and sort of boosted that, I guess.” 

Ethan finishes the water but stays on the counter. Mark leans against it next to him, fiddling with the sleeves of his flannel. Ethan’s suddenly remembering things he wanted to forget, and it makes him blush a bit. 

“Your hair’s long again.” Ethan says before he can stop himself. Dr. Dawn tells them to meet at Alex’s family’s room and leaves them to some privacy. 

Mark smiles, pushing his hair back from his face and behind his ears. His hair is curling a bit at the ends, a bit longer than his ears like it was a few years ago when he grew it out. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t really spend much time in front of the mirror anymore. You, on the other hand, look like you’re 19 again.” Mark takes his hand and circles it around Ethan’s wrist, showing how much extra space there is. Before, Ethan would probably be forced to the doctor for an eating disorder with how skinny he is. 

“Alex and I lived in the woods outside of LA for 10 months. We mostly lived off squirrels and the occasional canned food we could scavenge.” Ethan laughs, but it’s sad. He can’t get the image he never even saw out of his bed. Alex with a hole in his head. Still. Nothing. Dead. 

“I’m sorry. God, if I’d known you were in your house I would’ve tried for longer. I should’ve found a way to leave a note or something. Anything.” Mark looks genuinely guilty about it, still measuring the space between his fingers and Ethan’s wrist. 

“Fuck, Mark, at least we’re here. I never thought I’d see anyone again. I never thought I’d see you and I couldn’t stop thinking about the last thing I said..how I didn’t hug you, or Cathryn, or Aria.” 

At the mention of her name, Mark’s jaw clenches. 

It’s quiet for a few moments. There’s a knock at the door, and Mark’s hand falls away from his. They both remember the last thing they said to each other easily. Of course, they never talked about it. That was before. Things are different now. 

“Sorry to interrupt. M, Emily wants to know if we have enough resources to start expanding to another apartment building this week so we can be prepared for the newcomers trip?” 

“M?” Ethan teases. Mark smiles and steps over to the man and talks with him a bit about ‘structural integrity’ and ‘wealth of the group’. Ethan doesn’t know what the hell decision they come to, but the man says he will tell Emily and leaves. 

Ethan hops off the counter as Mark steps back over to him. 

“The group kind of just calls me M. I sort of left Mark behind when everything happened. Even people who were fans before go with it.” 

“Do you want me to call you that as well?” Ethan asks, shivering a bit. One thing about being mad skinny is he’s always fucking cold. 

“No. You can keep Mark. You’re the only one here who knew him.” He says, looking devastatingly sad for a few seconds, before he places a hand on Ethan’s back and brings him the opposite direction of the exit. 

“Aren’t we supposed to go to Alex’s family?” Ethan asks as Mark leads him up some stairs. 

“In a minute.” Mark says, then he takes a key from his pocket and opens a door that leads into a large open floor plan apartment. 

“Leader’s perks?” Ethan asks with a raised eyebrow. He steps around the room, finding its decorated but definitely not by Mark. There’s nails in the wall like there were once photos but they were taken down. 

“I don’t choose special treatment, they just do it. It’s kind of weird at first, living in someone who’s dead’s place, but I’m over it now.” Mark steps over to a large wooden wardrobe and digs in the bottom until he pulls out a large white hoodie. 

“Here. Keep it save, it’s the only not blood stained thing I have from before, not to mention the only evidence of what we were.” He hands it to Ethan, who unfolds it, and his breath catches in his throat. 

“Your unus annus hoodie. Mark, I can’t take this.” Ethan says, tears springing to his eyes as he’s once again reminded of everything they’ve lost. Mark’s just smiling. 

“I had time to pack things before I left. Did you?” He asks, and Ethan just shakes his head. A chill enters the room and he shivers again, leading him to give up his weak protests and pull on the hoodie. It smells like Mark and it’s far too big on him, the sleeves falling past his fingertips, but he’s warm. 

Mark’s just looking at him, eyes flitting over the hoodie on him. 

“It’s big.” Ethan murmurs with a chuckle. Mark nods in agreement but doesn’t say anything, instead taking them back downstairs. 

When they exit the building, there’s people staring. Two teenagers whisper to each other across the street, staring at them with wide eyes. Ethan, once very accustomed to having lots of eyes on him, blushes as he stumbles behind Mark, who’s walking easily and proudly across the street like some sort of king. 

Ethan just keeps his eyes down until they get across the street, where Mark brings him into the apartment building, leading him up three flights of stairs and to apartment C21. 

A raven-haired woman who looks about mid-30s answers the door. When she sees Ethan, she immediately invites him in. 

Mark hesitates as soon as Ethan’s starts to step away, hand reaching out to take his wrist. 

“I have so much stuff to do.” He says, but it’s almost like he’s telling himself, eyes wide and panicked. 

“I’ll be here. You’ll come get me in an hour?” Ethan says, trying to play it off so nobody notices that neither of them want to leave the other alone now that they found each other again. 

Mark nods and gently squeezes his wrist. 

“An hour,” he looks up at the woman, “he’s a bit weak from his trip. If he starts to go white, please give him some food. He won’t tell you he’s dizzy so you have to watch him.” 

“Of course, M. I’ve got him.” The woman says, and Mark nods and finally releases Ethan’s wrist and leaves the apartment. 

“Sorry..I swear I’m a grown adult.” Ethan says, cheeks red. 

The woman ushers him to a couch and sits with him. 

“It’s totally fine. We’ve never seen M like this with anyone. Ever. He’s always been very practical. Realistic and caring but very hard. Like, when we’re all crying he’s the one keeping us together. I can’t believe he gave you the hoodie.” She talks a mile a minute, excited. Ethan just tries to put her description to the Mark he knows. 

Mark..hard? Mark, who laughs at poo jokes and cries during wedding scenes in movies? He supposes he wouldn’t know what leading a group in a diseased world is like. He spent the whole time under the protection of Alex. Maybe Mark changed, who knows. 

“You know about this hoodie?” Ethan asks, folding his legs criss cross and pulling the long sleeves over his cold fingers. 

“Of course. M kept it in a waterproof backpack the entire time we traveled. He never left it alone. He always had it on him, but not _on_ him. Was it yours?” She asks, eyes wide and eager for information. 

“No..it’s his.” Ethan murmurs, eyebrows furrowing. Why did Mark seem to give it to him so easily if he spent so long protecting it?

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be so nosy. I’m Amanda, Alex’s sister. My son and my mother are working so they couldn’t join us. Please, tell me everything.” 

So Ethan does. He tells her about how they met, the troubles they had along the way. About how Alex taught him to hunt, to survive, and kept them both sane. He tries to give as many details as he can, knowing he would want them if the roles were reversed. 

“H-he told me to come here. He didn’t want me to see him..” Ethan trails off, wiping his tears away. She’s crying too, but she’s smiling. She squeezes his hand in reassurance. 

“Yeah, that sounds like him. He was always the most selfless person I knew, despite his appearance. He wanted to be a firefighter the whole time we were growing up. He just loved to help people.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Ethan says, annoyed at himself for crying. He only knew Alex for 10 months, this woman knew him her whole life, and she’s the one comforting him. 

“I’m sorry too. We both loved him, his memory won’t be lost.” 

There’s a small tap at the door and in steps Mark sheepishly. He steps over to them, sitting next to Ethan and placing a hand on his back. 

“I know we said an hour but I can’t even think to work right now. You okay?” He asks. 

Ethan wipes his face and takes a deep breath. 

“Yeah. Just memories I’ve been trying not to think about.” 

“Well you alright for a tour? We’ve got an hour before dark and I’d like to show you around.” 

-

That night, Mark leads him back to the room after the tour. 

“So, the bed should be good for tonight. We’ll have your permanent room set up by tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” Ethan murmurs, sleepy as hell. He doesn’t have as much energy as he used to. Not even close. 

He kicks off his shoes and crawls into the bed, still wearing the hoodie. He’s cold, anyway. Mark grabs a blanket from a chair near the kitchen area and sits on the couch on the far wall. 

“You should sleep in here. That can’t be comfortable.” Ethan whines, eyes droopy. Mark shrugs, situating himself on the couch, legs having to be folded so he isn’t hanging off. 

“All good. Go to sleep.” He says. 

Ethan wants to protest again, but his eyes close without permission. The pillow smells like Mark. He falls asleep within the minute. 

-

_ ”Ethan, bring me my gun.” Alex says, but his eyes are slime and his jaw is dislocated from his face. He’s already gone, but how is he talking? _

_ “Alex, I’m sorry.” Ethan says, and suddenly he’s holding his gun to Alex’s head.  _

_ “Ethan, please don’t. I won’t hurt you. Don’t kill me.” _

_ Ethan’s pulled the trigger before he can try to stop himself, and Alex is slumped against the wall.  _

_ Then, he moves, beginning to crawl towards Ethan, jaw slapping the floor messily, blood dripping.  _

_ “Ethan, why did you kill me? Ethan? Ethan!”  _

“Ethan!” 

At the sound of his name, the boy startles awake, sweat lining his hairline. Mark’s standing next to the bed above him, worried lines between his brows. 

“What’s happened?” Ethan asks, lying back down and running his hands down his face in exhaustion. His hands are then wet. He was crying. He looks at his wet hands in confusion. 

“You were screaming.” Mark says, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Sorry..nightmares.” Ethan says, then starts to cry a bit, the dream still stuck in his head vividly. God, he misses Alex. He misses everyone. He misses YouTube and McDonald’s fries and heating. 

Mark lifts the duvet and lies down with him, pulling him close. 

It’s not something they’ve done before, but times have definitely changed. Ethan gladly welcomes the comfort, trying to take deep breaths, forehead pressed to Mark’s chest. He’s really warm and kinda just smells like home. 

“I think if I wasn’t responsible for all these people I might’ve taken a gun to my head months ago.” Mark confesses in a hushed whisper. 

Ethan leans his head back so he can see his eyes, but stays right there. 

Mark’s eyes are closed like he doesn’t want to see his reaction to that. It’s probably better, because Ethan’s heart aches at the thought, and he’s sure it shows on his face. 

“I thought about it every day, but since the moment I saw you..alive and human..I haven’t thought of it even once.” 

Ethan exhales shakily at his words, stomach turning. 

“I’ve thought about it too..after finding my house overrun, and again when Alex...it just feels so pointless. What are we fighting to live for? How do we know there’s even anyone else?” Ethan speaks in the same hushed tone. He could never talk like this with Alex. The man was always trying to stay positive, keeping them alive and keeping Ethan happy must have made himself happy. 

Mark’s eyes finally open and meet his. Unexpectedly, the corner of his mouth lifts into a small smile. 

Ethan swallows nervously, waiting for the punchline, or for Mark to suddenly lift away. 

“Would you be opposed to the idea of me sleeping here tonight? To be perfectly honest, I’ve had a hard time getting used to sleeping alone.” Mark says instead of either option. Ethan chews on the inside of his lip. 

“O-okay. I’ve had trouble too.” He murmurs. 

Mark just keeps looking at him. Eventually Ethan can’t stand the tension and turns so he’s on his other side, back to Mark so he can sleep. Immediately, his body shivers. 

Mark hums behind him. 

“Cold?” He asks, voice gravelly. Ethan just shivers again. 

“Sorry, no heaters, obviously,” then he scoots up behind Ethan, arm curling around his waist, legs pressing up against his, “this okay?” 

It’s like Mark’s blood is made of fire or something. Ethan instinctively shivers up against him, feet tangling with his. He just doesn’t care anymore. He’s cold, fuck it. 

“Warmiplier.” He says randomly, eyes closing. 

Mark chuckles, nose pressed to the top of his head. 

Ethan lies there until he hears Mark’s breathing even out, and he tries to relax and fall asleep, but it’s hard to with what’s just happened. Why’s Mark being so touchy? Didn’t Amanda say he’s _hard_ of all things? Maybe it’s just seeing a familiar face again, or maybe it’s just all the time apart, or perhaps it’s even the 10 month long case of blue balls he’s sure they’re both sporting. 

Or maybe..

Ethan can’t help but remember the last time they saw each other, and the events that took place..

•

Ethan yawns as he helps Mark turn off all the recording lights and pack up the cameras. 

“Alright, we got enough for at least a week or two of videos.” Mark says, loading the footage onto his PC. 

Ethan nods, tired as hell. He didn’t sleep much last night so with it nearing 11, he’s knackered. 

That’s what he blames it on, his lack of focus due to sleep deprivation. Or maybe he’s just blind as a bat. 

He’s stepping up to one of the lamps to turn it off, when he trips over one of the coords, falling to the carpeted floor. The lamp is yanked over, crashing into the wall and showering Ethan with glass from the burst lightbulb. 

Mark’s at him immediately, picking glass from his hair. 

“Shit, you okay? Don’t move, there’s glass everywhere.” Mark’s voice is worried, but he face looks like he might laugh. 

“Don’t laugh at me. I’m so tired.” Ethan whines as Mark picks up the glass off of him. It doesn’t feel like any of it went through any skin or anything, but he just lies there in shame anyway. 

Mark grins and stands, tossing the glass into a bin and holding out a hand to help him up. Ethan takes it and then he’s abruptly upright. His vision’s bright for a moment with how quick he’s stood up, and he stumbles a bit.

Mark catches him, hand on his elbow. The other, touching his forehead with the back of his hand like he’s checking for a fever. 

“You actually okay?” He asks, voice serious now. 

“Just stood up quickly and got lightheaded.” Ethan says, blinking rapidly to clear the white spots from his vision. 

Mark goes to step away but suddenly stops, eyes flitting over Ethan’s face, looking confused of all things. 

“What? Is there glass in my face?” Ethan asks, hand starting for his face but stopping when he feels Mark’s move from his forehead to his cheek. 

He thinks the man is going to pull glass from him perhaps, but then his hand cups his cheek sweetly. Ethan’s breath catches as Mark starts to suddenly lean in closer, eyes meeting his before looking back at his lips like he’s asking permission. 

Ethan just stands frozen in place. Mark’s never lingered before. He’s never even been close enough _to_ linger before. 

Mark pauses, thumb pressing to Ethan’s lips like he’s stopping himself. 

“I’m tired too. I don’t have much self control.” He murmurs, voice low. 

“W-what?” Ethan whispers. Mark’s hand slowly slides from his cheek to his shoulder, then he looks to the floor between them and takes a deep breath. 

Ethan, stomach turning nervously, brings a hand up to circle around Mark’s wrist. 

“What is it?” He asks when Mark doesn’t say anything. 

The man looks back up and finally leans in the rest of the way pressing a soft kiss to Ethan’s cheek. 

“I have a confession.” He says while he’s there. He smells like his shampoo and his voice sends a chill down Ethan’s spine. He has a fleeting thought that maybe Mark murdered someone, but the thought feels wrong in his head. 

Then again, Mark isn’t usually this touchy, especially off camera. The man leans back just enough so he can look in his eyes. He’s extremely close. Close enough that Ethan wonders if he can hear his heart hammering in his chest. 

“Tell me.” Ethan murmurs, hand squeezing Mark’s wrist. Maybe Mark is being touchy and sweet because he thinks Ethan will revolt once he confesses. 

A loud ding causes Ethan to jump in surprise, before he realises it was just his phone. He doesn’t move to answer it. Mark raises an eyebrow, free hand reaching into Ethan’s back pocket and checking the notification. 

“Your Uber is 2 minutes out.” He says, looking down at the phone. Ethan just stares at him. 

“Well?” Ethan says, not moving in the slightest. Mark drops his hand from his shoulder and replaces his phone in his pocket, before walking over to the door and opening it, motioning for Ethan to step into the hallway. 

Ethan does, and Mark follows him to the front door, where Ethan slips on his shoes. 

Mark watches his every move with dark eyes. This is weird as hell. They’re never this tense. 

“You can tell me anything, y’know.” Ethan says, leaning against the door once he’s finished. 

Mark just stands a few feet away and shrugs, arms crossed. 

“It’s not really something I want to have a conversation about in 2 minutes.” 

Ethan fumbles for his phone. 

“I can cancel the ride and stay for a while. Overnight, even.” Ethan offers. Mark quickly shakes his head. 

“No..I’ll wait a bit longer. Enjoy regular recordings and being normal first. I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m just sleep deprived.” He rambles a bit, then runs his hands down his face like he’s stressed. 

“Mark..are you sick?” Ethan asks, chest restricting painfully just at the thought. 

Mark laughs, of all things. 

“No, nothing like that. I’m fine, healthy. I just worry what will happen if I tell you. It will change sort of everything and I worry it won’t be for the better.” 

Ethan’s never seen the guy like this. So quiet spoken, eyes mournful, and kissing Ethan’s cheek? What was up with that? 

“I’m really not good with knowing there’s something this serious that you don’t want to tell me. Here, I’m cancelling my ride.” Just as Ethan goes to do so, lights flash over the windows on the door, and Ethan’s phone dings. 

Mark smiles and reaches around him for the door handle. 

“Get some sleep, you’re just as exhausted as I am. I’ll tell you tomorrow maybe.” He says, not opening the door because Ethan’s standing in front of it. 

Ethan places a hand on his chest, eyebrows knitting together. 

“I don’t like leaving you like this. C’mon, I’ll cancel and we can talk.” 

Mark shakes his head, smiling but it’s sad. 

“Once I tell you, you won’t look at me like that anymore. I want at least one more sleep with us like this. Come over tomorrow whenever. I’ll tell you then.” 

Ethan’s phone dings. The driver’s getting impatient. He chews on his lip and eventually gives in. He pats Mark’s chest where he hand rests. 

“Okay. I’ll come over first thing.” Ethan says, then he’s out of the door. 

He apologises to the Uber driver and gets in, looking back at the house to see Mark is standing in the doorway still watching. 

They pull out of the driveway and Ethan presses his face to the cool window and tries to figure out what the fuck just happened. 

Mark, on the other hand, shuts the front door and slips down to sit in front of it, tears forming in his eyes as he holds his chest where Ethan’s hand just sat, feeling too many emotions at once. 

Unbeknownst to them both, a woman just a mile away staggers into her children’s room, eyes empty as she bites into her son’s leg hungrily. 

•

Present day Ethan finds it hard to fall asleep now. He turns as gently as he can in Mark’s arms so he can see the man’s face. 

His hair is falling over his eyes, and his stubble makes it obvious he hasn’t shaved in a good few days. He’s fast asleep, but his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s frowning. 

Ethan reaches up without really thinking, swiping his thumb gently over the lines between Mark’s eyebrows. Eventually, he hums a bit, face relaxing. His hand around Ethan’s waist tightens a bit, mouth parting just slightly as he dreams. 

Ethan, satisfied now, closes his eyes, his exhaustion finally getting to him. 

“Ethan.” Mark whispers, causing Ethan’s eyes to shoot back open. 

“What?” He asks, but he finds Mark’s eyes still closed. He’s still asleep. Ethan watches in amazement as Mark’s face twitches, and he wonders what on Earth he could be dreaming about. 

Mark mumbles incoherently then quiets down again, arm relaxing around him. 

Ethan wishes he could deny how nice this feels, to just lie here with someone. In Mark’s arms, behind a locked door, two stories up, surrounded by tall walls with armed guards. 

Ethan hasn’t felt this safe in 10 months. Sure, maybe Mark’s “hard” now, but Ethan’s thin as bones and sad 90% of the day. They’ve both changed. Anyone would change in this world. 

Before, this never would have happened. Sleeping in the same bed, let alone cuddled together. 

Now, Ethan just doesn’t care. He leans in, pressing his nose to Mark’s chest, and falls asleep easily to the rhythm of his breathing. 

-

Ethan wakes up cold. 

Sitting up, he finds he’s alone. He doesn’t really care, though, cause he can hear rain pouring down outside. 

It’s early November if his track of time has been right. It would’ve been the last month of unus annus. 

He and Alex never really thought about weather. It didn’t get unbearably cold at their camp outside of LA, especially since most of those months were summer. It actually was annoyingly hot most of the time. 

Now, he’s in Washington, he has to remind himself. Washington, in November. He wonders if it will snow. 

Stepping out of the bed, he shivers as his bare feet touch the cold hardwood floor. He starts for the wardrobe, but finds a pile of clothes and a pair of rain-boots sat on a chair next to it. There’s a note on top. 

_ ’the coat and pants will be too big but the boots should fit! Meet me in the garden when you wake up. -Mark’ _

Ethan sets the note aside with a smile, appreciating something as small as a handwritten note these days. 

He’s swimming in the clothes a bit, but the pants have a drawstring so it’s not bad. The coat is a nice raincoat that feels expensive. There’s a pair of socks too, and they must be thermal because Ethan’s feet feel instantly better when he pulls them on. Lastly, he slips on the dark blue wellies and sets out of the room. 

When he steps out, he stuffs his cold hands into his pocket and finds a key. Turning around, he discovers it is indeed for Mark’s room. 

He replaces the key in his pocket and bounds down the steps, excitedly opening the exit door. 

He stands in the rain for a moment, hands held out in front of him. It’s really cold rain, but he hasn’t stood in pouring rain in quite some time. He hasn’t had time to enjoy any sort of weather, actually. Not when he’s constantly watching his back. 

Despite the rain, everyone’s walking about doing their tasks just like the day before. Ethan looks around, blinking rain from his eyes as he tries to spot a garden. 

“Are you Ethan?” 

He turns to the voice, finding a tall dark skinned man with his hood up over his head. Ethan thinks maybe he should’ve done the same, but his hair’s already soaked so there’s really no point. 

“Yeah!” He replies over the loud rainfall. 

“My name is Derek. M asked if I could escort you to the garden. It’s right this way.” Then he holds out his elbow like a legit escort. 

Ethan hums in approval and loops his hand around the guy’s arm, paying attention as he’s lead across the street and down the road a bit so he knows where to go next time. 

“So...how do you feel about him? Mark I mean. O-or M.” The nickname feels weird in his mouth. Derek grins, showing a nice row of perfect teeth. 

“He’s definitely reserved. He’s a bit dark, sort of strict-like I guess? We don’t know much about his personal life so I don’t really have any details. I’d take a bullet for him, though. Anyone here would.” 

They reach an overhang in front of a building, where they both shake off excess raindrops. 

“Everyone here seems so content with the dynamic, treating him like the king. Nobody’s attempted to fight for the throne?” 

Derek shakes his head. 

“Nah. Random people don’t just stumble accidentally onto Westport, Washington. Everyone here was in trouble, backed into a corner, surrounded by dead family members, or struggling to just get back here to their hometown. M got us here and he saved everyone he could. He deserves that throne and there’s nothing any of us can do to repay him for saving our lives so sure, we give him that extra treatment. Nobody would have it any other way.” 

Ethan chews on his lip, still trying to put the words ‘dark and strict-like’ to Mark’s face. Every time someone here speaks of him, Ethan imagines his military discharged hard ass history teacher from high school, not his silly best friend who drank his own piss and cried during Inside Out. 

Sure, Mark’s a steadyfast person who knows what he wants, but he’s never been strict. He punched a hole in his wall and he got pissed when Ethan shot him twice with the paintball gun, but he’s never gotten really seriously angry. Not around Ethan anyway. 

“Everyone keeps saying he’s this hard strict dude but I don’t see it. What happened over the last ten months?” 

Derek opens the door and motions him inside. 

“He said you might pry for details and he wants me to tell you to ‘stop being a dirty gossip’. His words, not mine. I will say this though. Just between you and I: I haven’t seen him smile, like a real smile, much at all the entire time I’ve known him. Since you got here, I’ve seen him smile at least five times now. Five!” 

Ethan tries to hide his pleased blush and walks inside, finding it’s a flower shop turned into a greenhouse sort of. There’s rows of plants, mostly vegetables, growing everywhere he can see. 

He doesn’t have to look around. He can hear Mark’s voice, further back in the store, saying something about inventory and stockpiles. 

Derek’s left back out of the door before Ethan can thank him, so he steps down one of the rows, gandering at the tomatoes, the cucumber, the bell peppers, as he passes them up. 

He follows Mark’s voice to the back wall, where he’s standing next to a woman who’s tending to some spices. 

Mark’s eyebrows furrow when he sees him and he stops mid sentence to step up to him. Reaching onto the shelf next to them, he picks up a hand towel and uses it to dry Ethan’s dripping hair. 

“I got you a raincoat with a hood, you know. You really don’t want to get sick with the limited painkillers we have on hand.” Mark chastises him, worried line stuck between his brows like they were last night when he was sleeping. It’s going to be lasting for sure. Definitely his first prominent wrinkle as he ages. 

“Sorry. Didn’t think about it. Haven’t enjoyed rain in forever.” Ethan murmurs. Mark’s eyes soften. 

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy it. Westport is one of the rainiest places in Washington, and November happens to be our wettest month out of the year.” The woman pipes up behind them. 

“Ethan this is Lilly, she’s head of the garden. I thought once you’re recovered you could start out working with her tending to the plants. Lilly, this is Ethan.” 

Lilly, an older lady with greying blonde hair, cups his cheek with a grin. 

“Ah, the infamous Ethan! You’re fine with dirt, aren’t you?” 

Ethan laughs awkwardly, looking back and forth between her and Mark, but the man offers no guidance. He just watches the interaction with a smirk. 

“Yeah, dirt’s fine. Um, infamous?”

Lilly waggles her eyebrows. She sure does seem to be a wholesomely happy person despite all the death around them. 

“Everyone’s talking about you, hun! Nobody’s seen this guy make that face in 10 months.” She stage whispers as if Mark can’t hear her. The guy rolls his eyes, cheeks reddening just a tad. Ethan giggles. He sort of loves this lady already. She’s got that thing that older folks have that just makes everything they do adorable. 

“So! How long were you two together before the biters?” She asks. 

Ethan’s eyebrows raise as he realises what she’s asking. Mark doesn’t help in the slightest, looking to Ethan for the answer. 

“O-oh, um, we weren’t—we’re just close friends. We worked together every day..before.” Ethan looks to Mark, wondering if the answer is okay, then wonders why he’s wondering. That’s the truth, why wouldn’t that be okay?

Mark’s got a little notepad out and he’s looking around the room and writing things as if he wasn’t intently listening. 

“Oops, could’ve fooled me,” Lilly winks and steps away from him, picking up a watering can, “well, I look forward to having you here. Get better soon so I can teach you all my ways.” 

“I’m better now.” Ethan murmurs, and Lilly and Mark both make the same face and completely ignore that one. 

“Thanks Lilly. Alright, c’mon. You hungry?” Mark puts away his notepad and steps down between the aisle of plants, leading him back outside. They stand under the overhang for a moment. 

Mark steps up to him and pulls Ethan’s hood over his head. His face is neutral but his eyes are talking a mile a minute and Ethan can’t read him like he used to. He always seems to be thinking too much now. Not giving his brain even a moment to relax. 

Then he steps away, pulling up his own hood. 

They walk down the road, and everyone seems to be chipper despite the cold rain pouring down. As they walk, people greet them with smiles like some sort of white picket fence neighbourhood that’s getting ready for a barbecue. It’s bizarre, but Ethan could definitely get used to this rather than the alternative. 

There’s a restaurant at the end of the road right next to the wall. They step inside, and Ethan’s hit with a wave of hunger as he immediately smells food. 

The place is still more or less a restaurant, with people sitting about the seats and people behind the counter cooking. Only now, they’re not in uniforms and Ethan can see a skinned deer hanging in the kitchen through the window on the swinging door. 

“We have a few skilled hunters who have taught us everything they know. We own chickens, pigs, cows, the lot. There’s also a hunt every day as the weather allows and a scavenge run once a week or two to nearing towns. We haven’t really been running out of food, we’re extremely lucky in that regard.” 

Mark brings him to a booth in the back corner. Immediately, there’s a man stepping up to the table. 

“Mornin’. What’ll it be?” He asks. There’s no menu or anything, obviously. 

“We’ll have two meal one’s and two waters, please.” Mark nods to the man, who smiles, eyes flickering over to Ethan every few seconds. 

“Of course. Coming right up.” He says, walking away. Looking around the restaurant, Ethan finds a good few people’s eyes on him. Some trying to be subtle, while a few just stare. 

“Do they all think we’re dating like Lilly did and that’s why everyone’s always staring at me?” Ethan asks quietly. Mark taps a finger on the table, studying him. 

“Probably. We did recreate a cheesy movie reunion scene in the street then sleep in the same bed last night. Is it bothering you?” He asks. His eyes are dark for some reason. Ethan has to look away, stomach fluttering. 

“I don’t know. I just hope it’s not cause they hate me or something. That’s stupid, isn’t it?” 

Mark’s lip twitches a bit, amused. 

“A little stupid but it’s okay,” then he stands, crossing his arms as he looks at all of the people staring, “if you have enough time to stare I’m going to assume we need more people in scut. Do we?” 

Ethan’s eyes widen. Mark’s voice is stern. He’d think the guy is pissed off if he didn’t know him. He’s never heard him talk like that to people. He peeks around Mark, expecting someone to try and fight him or something. 

There’s a cluster of voices, all either apologising or just saying “no sir”, and half of the people stand and leave, the other half turning back to their food.

Mark sits again and casually rests his arms on the table. 

“Was that mean?” Ethan asks, cheeks reddening in embarrassment, eyes on the table so he doesn’t have to look at anyone. 

“Do they look offended?” Mark asks, and Ethan gets over his embarrassment for a moment to look back over the room. Surprisingly, he finds everyone is just doing their own thing. Some are eating, some are reading. A teenager and a child in the corner are laughing as they share a joke. It’s as if nothing even happened. 

“No..I suppose not.” He says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Mark tilts his head, watching him. He sure does stare a lot now. 

“You’ll get used to the dynamic. None of these people knew me before. They don’t have anything to compare to. A lot has changed.” He looks away, out of the windows at the pouring rain. 

Ethan sets his chin on his palm and chews on the inside of his lip, reminded of that last night again. Mark’s eyes look like they did then. Sad. Dark. Glossy. 

“Hey..you never told me what you had to—“ Ethan’s cut off by the man coming back with their food and bottles of water, and Ethan’s promptly distracted, stomach growling. Meal one seems to be sautéed veggies, a baked potato, and a burger with lettuce rather than buns. They dig in immediately, and Ethan quickly forgets to continue his question. 

-

Ethan waits impatiently in the room for Mark to come home from his scavenge trip, flipping through a random yearbook that was left in the apartment. 

Finally, the door opens. Mark steps in, covered in blood and looking pissed off. He doesn’t say a word, dropping his bag and heading immediately to the toilet where he starts the shower they have set up in every room. It’s not hot and it’s not cold but nobody cares. They love being able to bathe. 

Ethan closes the yearbook, hearing Mark angrily shed his clothes. 

He only showers for two minutes, then he steps out, just in briefs, drying his hair with a towel. 

“What happened?” Ethan immediately asks. Mark sighs and steps over to his bag, pulling something out before coming to sit on the bed in front of him. 

His hair’s all spiky from his shower, all over the place. He hands Ethan what he’s holding. 

It’s one of those new Polaroid type cameras. It’s a nice baby blue colour. Mark hands him a pack of film along with it. 

“The store only had one pack so we’ll have to find more somewhere once you run out. I figured you’d enjoy taking photos.” 

“Yeah, wow. Thanks man. You had time to grab this? You were really bloody a minute ago.”

Mark lies down, arms behind his head, and sighs. 

“Yeah..Trey was bitten. He’s was with us for almost 7 months now.” 

Ethan stops fiddling with the camera settings, frowning. 

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to get me stuff, you know. I’ll start work soon and won’t be idle anymore.” 

Mark turns to face him and takes the camera, pressing in the batteries for him and turning it on. 

“It’s not about that. I’ve spent so long devastated about all the memories we’ve lost, I just want to move on. Make new memories. I want us to look back at these photos in ten years and laugh.” He looks hopeful, despite how easy it is to die these days. Ethan’s stomach flutters at the idea of them still being with each other in ten years. Happier, perhaps. The disease coming to an end and humanity restored, maybe. 

“I don’t want you to go on runs anymore. I worry about you. If you’ll come back or not.” Ethan confesses, then takes a picture of how Mark looks right now. Freshly showered, hair askew, all of the muscle he’s gained over these last 10 months just out on display. 

“Ugh, not me,” Mark pretends to be bashful for a moment, “but hey, I have to go on runs. These are my people. Someone has to do it.” 

Ethan sets aside the camera and the quickly developing photo and sets his chin on his hand, pouting. 

“I’m scared of losing you.” Ethan murmurs quietly. His heart aches. He’s lost so much. They all have. 

Mark sits up and pulls him in for a hug. Ethan leans into it gladly, curling up against his bare chest. Mark’s hand comes up to hold him there on the back of his head. 

“I’m right here.” Mark whispers. They sit there together for a long time, so sad about what they’ve lost. Yet, so happy they at least have each other. 

-

Ethan wakes up to find Mark getting dressed, peeking out of the window as he does. 

“Where you going?” 

Mark shrugs on a black coat. It looks really nice on him. He steps over to the bed and bends to his height, pressing a small kiss to Ethan’s head. 

“Council meeting. We are planning to expand the town to the next building over. That means clearing that building and moving the wall. It’ll be some work.” He smiles a bit, still just there. So close. Ethan can’t help his mind racing. Remembering that last night. Maybe he’s just half asleep, but he doesn’t even attempt to stop the word vomit. 

“What did you have to confess?” He asks. Mark raises an eyebrow, running a hand through his hair, trying to get it out of his eyes. 

“What?” 

“That last night. You said you had a confession that could change everything. What was it?” Ethan watches the realisation draw on Mark’s face. The man immediately stands, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves. 

“Um, I have to go. The meeting starts in five. Get some more sleep it’s pretty early.” 

“Mark—“ Ethan stops when Mark looks to him, giving him this look he can’t explain. The man leaves the room soon after. Ethan rolls over, folding into a ball, trying to just figure it out. Figure him out, really. 

What’s so bad that he can’t just say?

-

It’s raining again. Ethan sits on a chair next to the window and takes a photo of the raindrops on the window with the beach in the background. It’s nice. 

Finally, the doors open across the street and a group of people step out. The meeting’s over. 

Mark is the last one out. He puts his hood up and heads across the street. Ethan listens for his boots on the floor as he climbs the stairs then crosses the hallway to the door. He unlocks the door and steps inside. 

Ethan turns to face him, keeping his face straight so Mark knows he isn’t dropping it. 

Mark sighs when he sees his expression and shucks his coat off, dropping the wet thing on the chair next to the door. 

“That was long ago, Ethan, it’s time we forgot about it.” He says, kicking his boots off. 

Ethan stands up from the chair, shaking a bit. Mark’s there in an instant, helping him to the bed despite the annoyed look on his face. 

“I’m fine,” Ethan murmurs, sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed, “you said it would change everything, and you didn’t think it would be for the better. Well everything’s changed and not for the better so what’s there to lose?” 

Mark looks just sad for a moment, fingers pinching the excess fabric of the hoodie. He stands up, shaking his head as he paces over to the window, putting some distance between them. 

“You..I doubt you’ll want to sleep cuddled together anymore if I tell you.” Mark bites out the words then runs his hands down his face. 

“You won’t lose me. The sleeping thing is just for warmth. I’d probably have hypothermia otherwise. I don’t think anything more of it.” Ethan really doesn’t know what Mark wants to hear. Mark laughs but it’s menacing. 

“Exactly. You don’t think anything more. Look, I wasn’t going to tell you then and there’s no point in telling you now. In either situation there’s a good chance you’ll back away and back then you were my best friend. Now..you’re kind of the only person I still have.” 

Ethan stands up, the shakiness worn off. Mark looks up to watch him, worried despite his clear embarrassment. 

“You have your town. I’m not the only person.” He says, stepping up next to him to look out of the window at the people below. 

“Those people don’t know me. Not the me before. There’s even people who were fans scattered in there. Who knows who’s still alive. The rest of the country could be on fire. Right now, you’re the only person in this world who actually remembers me as me.” Mark’s not looking at the people below, he’s looking at him. 

“I won’t revolt. I’m here and you said it was long ago. Whatever you did..it was before.” Ethan doesn’t know what to guess. What to expect. Mark just smiles sadly. 

“That last night I didn’t sleep at all. I thought you’d know just from what had happened. I suppose I was better at hiding it than I thought. I didn’t kill anyone, if that’s what you think.” 

Ethan just shrugs sheepishly. 

“Well I don’t know. How would I know just from that last night? Nothing even happened.” 

There’s a whistle from the street below. Someone needs Mark for something. The man steps away and heads back to his boots, slipping them back on. 

Ethan tries desperately to think but it was 10 months ago. What even really happened? Mark was really touchy and really sad, that’s all that happened. 

Ethan follows him to the chair next to the door, where Mark slips on the wet thing. 

“C’mon, give me a hint or something.” Ethan pleads, a bit desperate. Mark turns and raises an amused eyebrow, adjusting the collar of his rain coat. 

“A hint?” He asks, then steps up to him and leans in close, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. 

“I’ll be back soon.” He says, leaning away and leaving the room. 

Ethan crosses his arms, pouting a bit. The guy couldn’t even give him a hin—unless..that was the hint.

He touches his fingers to his forehead where Mark’s lips just were, and has to steady himself on the bed frame so he doesn’t fall over as the realisation crashes over him like a tidal wave. 

_ ”I’m tired too. I don’t have much self control.” _ Mark had said after kissing his cheek, eyes on his lips. Touching him as much as he could before ‘everything would change’ the next day. 

Ethan scrambles for the door, stepping out into the hallway. Mark’s got the stairwell door opened, about to head through. 

“Mark!” He calls, far too loud for the short hallway. The man turns, startled. 

“You okay?” He asks, looking him over like he might be dying. 

“Do you love me?” Ethan asks. Mark’s eyebrows furrow and he shuts the stairwell door, stepping down the hall up to him, hands in his pockets. 

“Of course. Sorry I don’t say it as much anymore.” He looks genuinely regretful. Before, he might’ve thought Ethan were joking. Now, nothing’s a joke anymore. Now, the whole ‘leaving on a good note because you could die today’ is a much more serious saying. 

“Were you.. _in_ love with me?” Ethan asks. Mark’s jaw clenches and he runs a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor between them. It’s enough answer. 

“Oh...” Ethan whispers, and everything sort of makes sense now. It would have changed everything. They both had girlfriends then. Now, they sleep in the same bed. Cuddled, even. It would all depend on Ethan’s reaction. Mark was making perfect sense. How didn’t Ethan get it? Mark kissed his cheek, for gods sake. The dude never just did that casually while alone in his recording room. 

“I wasn’t going to tell you. The next day when you were going to come over, I wasn’t going to tell you that. I’d been thinking all night of alternatives to say instead. I was going to pick one. Even if I’d told you the truth, I wasn’t going to act on it. I wouldn’t have done anymore than get it off my chest.” 

“Because of Aria?” Ethan guesses. 

“Because of Aria.” Mark confirms, wiping his glossy eyes. Ethan’s stomach turns thinking of her. God, he misses her so much. 

“I never got any closure. She was set to get home from her flight later that first day. I never even got to see her again. I had to grief everyone and get over two people I loved at once while trying to lead all these people—fuck I hate complaining.” 

Ethan reaches for him and embraces him. Mark cries a bit on his shoulder while they hug. 

“It’s not complaining. It’s not like you can just talk it out with these people about this. It’s a lot.” Ethan murmurs, holding him tightly. 

There’s a whistle outside again. Mark immediately pulls away and takes a deep breath, wiping his eyes. 

“I gotta go.” He says. He hasn’t met Ethan’s eyes this entire conversation. 

“Okay. I’ll be here.” Ethan says firmly so Mark knows he isn’t going anywhere. 

Mark turns and leaves, and Ethan stands there in the hallway for a long while, thoughts running a mile a minute. 

-

It’s night. Maybe 9 or 10 pm. Ethan lies in bed, still waiting for Mark to get back. He feels like they still need to talk. It feels unfinished. 

Despite everything that’s happened, Ethan weirdly can’t stop himself from thinking ‘why me?’ 

He idolised Mark for so long. A fan turned friend. He always thought of Mark as above him. Someone he looks up to and still does. Someone who deserves someone just as confident and great as him. For him to be into Ethan? How?

Eventually, Ethan gets too tired to wait any longer. He falls asleep with his head on Mark’s pillow. 

-

He wakes up to the bed moving as he’s jostled. 

“Fuck, Ethan I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Here, c’mere.” Mark’s saying, pulling Ethan to him. 

“What’s wrong?” Ethan asks sleepily, letting Mark pull him close. Then they’re touching everywhere they could be. Mark’s shirtless but Ethan’s not awake enough to wonder why. 

“You’re freezing. When I got in you were shivering like crazy. I got caught up working and meant to come back but—shit, can you feel anything?” 

Ethan tries to wake up a bit but he’s really tired. He thinks of what he can feel. He can feel Mark against him. He can hear Mark’s heartbeat where his head lies on the guy’s chest. He can feel Mark’s hand running up and down his back, warming him up. 

“I can feel. Hey...I wanted to talk. About us.” Ethan whines. Mark hushes him, pulling the duvet tight around him. 

“Not now. Go back to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” Mark murmurs, voice strained like he’s in pain. 

“You said that last time.” Ethan whispers, but his eyes flutter anyway, tunnelling back towards sleep quickly. 

Before he falls, he hears Mark sniffle a bit, his hand touching Ethan’s gently. He wants to ask what’s wrong, but he falls asleep without his permission instead. 

-

For once, Ethan isn’t alone in the room when he wakes up. He’s swaddled in covers, nice and warm. Mark’s putting a belt through his pant loops, getting dressed for the day. 

“Hey.” Ethan yawns, wanting to sit up but not wanting to be cold more. 

Mark doesn’t look at him. 

“Stay in bed for a while. Your toes are yellow. I think you got frostbite.” 

Ethan does sit up, now, not caring as the cold air hits his shirt clad back. 

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” Ethan asks. Mark turns and does, but he looks beyond pissed off. Ethan immediately starts to wonder what he did to piss the guy off. 

“Because last night I was so nervous about seeing you after you found out so I stayed out working for longer. I left you to literally freeze for hours. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” 

Ethan realises Mark is so pissed off at himself. 

“Hey, I’m okay. Mark, don’t leave.” Ethan pleads when Mark steps up to the chair holding his boots and coat. 

Mark steps up to the bed and lifts the duvet at Ethan’s feet, and presses his fingernails of his thumbs into both of Ethan’s big toes. 

“Can you feel this?” He asks. Ethan can’t, but he doesn’t want to say so. His silence is enough answer. Mark’s face pinches angrily and he covers Ethan’s feet again, even tucking them in despite his anger, then stepping back to his boots and slipping them on. 

“You’re mad at yourself for leaving me so that’s why you’re going to leave me?” Ethan asks. Mark stops, head hung in shame. He drops his other boot and presses his forehead to the door.

“I don’t know how to act anymore now that you know. I don’t know what the boundaries are. If I can look at you or if you still want to sleep here or what you want.” Mark talks to him, facing the door. 

“Well..I’m cold. Come back to bed?” Ethan asks, and chews on his lip nervously. 

Mark stands there for a minute, then kicks off his boot, taking his belt off and his sweater. He gets into the bed but doesn’t move, clearly wanting Ethan to make the moves. He’s acting like he’s walking on eggshells. 

“I need to ask..do you still feel that way? About me?” Ethan asks, still sat up. Mark’s eyes are closed when he looks back at him. His jaw is clenched. 

“Don’t ask me that. S’ just mean.” He murmurs, hands fisted into the covers. Ethan lies down on his side next to the man, head propped up on his hand. 

“Tell me.” He pleads. Mark takes a deep breath but keeps his eyes closed. 

“Yeah, I do. I thought I was over you after 10 months but the second I saw you again..” he exhales, shaky. It’s like it’s physically paining him to have this conversation. 

Ethan nods, thinking that would have made him feel differently but it still doesn’t. He’s still just cold. He lies down and cuddles up to Mark, who finally holds him. 

Ethan shivers a bit as the cold feeling leaves his body. He presses his nose to Mark’s neck, arm thrown across his chest. 

Mark takes a few deep breaths like he’s trying to calm down. 

“Does it hurt to be like this? You have to tell me your boundaries as well.” Ethan murmurs. Mark chuckles a bit, but it’s dry. 

“I have no boundaries. Just a lot of feelings and thoughts when you do anything at all. Just don’t mind it.” Mark says, head turning so his lips press to Ethan’s forehead. 

“I’m not sleepy.” Ethan sighs. He can feel Mark smile against his forehead. 

“Me neither.” The man says, then reaches out with his other hand to the bedside table, coming back with a book. It’s a really light pastel pink colour. 

“We have a makeshift library here and I’ve been trying to read whenever I can. I finished this one. It’s kind of chick-flick like but it’s good.” Mark explains. 

“Read it to me?” Ethan asks.

Mark hums and opens the book, clearing his throat a bit. 

“I was in the fifth grade the first time I thought about turning thirty...” 

As Mark reads to him, Ethan lets himself bask in the feeling. Why should anything have to change? Now that he knows Mark’s in love with him, he doesn’t feel weird about cuddling every night. It technically is for survival warmth as Ethan is still skinny as hell, but he would still wonder every night if Mark feels Ethan’s a burden, having to keep him warm all night. 

Now, he knows Mark doesn’t mind. Only now, he feels bad in a different way. 

Ethan’s thought of Mark like that a few different times. He’ll admit, he’s not 100% straight. Who really is? He doesn’t think he’d date a guy, but he’s not disgusted at the idea. 

Before, there would be times when Mark would be doing something, face in focus mode, or taking off his shirt, or watching Ethan do a bit with an amused expression, and Ethan would get a little fluttery feeling in his stomach. 

But really who wouldn’t? It’s Mark. You’d have to be dead to not find him attractive sometimes. Ethan’s proudly said in a video once that Chris Pratt is sexy as hell. Doesn’t mean he’s in love with him. 

Ethan doesn’t know if he could feel that way for Mark. Of course, he loves him. Idolised him for years and still does, but would he kiss him? Touch him in a way he never considered he might?

He just feels bad, mostly. Wants to lift away and give Mark space. Ethan’s had crushes on people and only been able to stare at them across the room and it made his heart ache every day. That’s just a crush. 

To be in _love_ with someone and cuddle them every night but not be able to do anything more? It must be painful. 

Ethan has to change something. He either has to go with it and consider the idea of going further, or he has to distance himself so Mark can get over him and they can move on. 

The latter has his heart aching, so for now, Ethan presses impossibly closer to the man, feeling immensely relaxed as Mark reads to him. He does have a great voice after all. 

He could go further, but what if they kiss once and Ethan realises he’s not into it? That’d break Mark like nothing else. It would almost be better to not even consider it unless Ethan was 100% sure he wants it. 

He will decide later. 

-

Ethan sits on the edge of the bed, legs dangling off the side. He can hear Mark stepping down the hall, and just that makes him start to feel nervous. The door opens but he doesn’t look. 

“Hey, you okay?” Mark asks. Ethan can hear him taking his boots and coat off. It wasn’t raining today, just cold, so Ethan’s got the hoodie on. He plays with the excess fabric that go past his hands. 

“I keep feeling weird, or maybe bad. I don’t know. I think I need you to do something. I have to know and it’s driving me insane.” Ethan doesn’t think he’s even making sense. He covers his face and sighs. Mark doesn’t sound like he’s moving. 

“What do you need me to do?” 

Ethan closes his eyes, hanging his head. He hopes he won’t regret this decision. He could always veer the conversation to the other option, but he decides he has so know. He has these feelings and he has to know if they’re real or just situational fleeting thoughts. 

“I need you to kiss me.” He says, then exhales shakily. 

Mark steps across the room and Ethan feels the bed dip behind him. 

“Are you sure? You don’t have to, I’m just fine with how we are. Don’t feel pressured to do anything.” Mark says, crawling across the bed to sit behind him. 

“It’s not pressure.” 

Mark’s hand gently settles onto his back. 

“You’re 100% on this?” He makes sure another time. 

“Do _you_ want to? Sounds like you’re trying to convince me not to.” 

Mark gets closer, both hands moving to his waist, nose pressing to the back of Ethan’s neck. It sends a chill up his spine. 

“I want to. God, of course I want to. It’s all I can think sometimes. I just don’t want to kiss you just for you to leave.” Mark murmurs, right there against him. Ethan finds himself tipping his neck a bit to give him more room. 

“Won’t leave.” Ethan promises, and that seems to be enough for Mark. He presses an experimental kiss to the back of his neck where he is, then slowly moves to the side, where he presses these sweet little kisses from his shoulder up to his jawline. His hands on Ethan’s waist circle around him, pulling him a bit. 

Ethan follows along, turning and getting properly on the bed. Mark lies him down and crawls over him, easily holding himself up with one hand as he cups Ethan’s cheek with his free one. 

Their eyes meet, and Mark searches him like he’s checking for last minute regrets. His eyes are dark, pupils dilated. Ethan’s stomach flips nervously. 

Finally, he leans in and gently presses their lips together. It’s slow, apprehensive. 

It’s different kissing guys. Ethan has before, but it was way back. Now, there’s stubble scratching at him, a non-feminine hand trailing from his cheek down to his hip, and the whole fact that he’s being lead in the first place, rather than making the moves himself. 

Ethan finds himself reaching up, hands moving to Mark’s shoulders, feeling him there. 

The kiss changes a bit. Mark’s mouth opens, deepening the kiss. He makes this deep grumbly noise and takes Ethan’s wrist, bringing it above his head and pressing him down, restraining him. Heat suddenly bubbles in Ethan’s stomach. 

Mark separates their lips, only to press them to Ethan’s neck and work on a love bite. 

Ethan lifts his chin, giving Mark more room to work with, mouth hanging open as he experiences all these new feelings. 

Once he’s satisfied, Mark comes up again and presses their lips back together. The kiss is dirty, now. Passionate. 

Then, Mark keeps his wrist held down against the bed and uses his other hand to hook under Ethan’s knee, bringing his leg up to Mark’s waist. The movement free’s some space for Mark to fit between his legs. 

Ethan gasps as Mark’s thigh presses to his dick. Separated by their layers of clothing, but still just the right angle for that pressure. 

At his gasp, Mark suddenly separates their lips, breathing heavily. He releases Ethan’s leg but he still holds him down with the other. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. You have to tell me when you get uncomfortable. You need to stop me. I can’t even think right now.” Mark’s lips are red. His hair is mussed and he’s breathing terribly unevenly. 

“D-don’t stop.” Ethan begs, surprising even himself. His hand grasps Mark’s shirt, pulling him weakly. His brain is jumbled. All he can think is that he wants more. Whatever Mark will give him. 

Mark’s mouth slacks at his words and he takes Ethan’s free hand, putting that one above his head as well, completely restraining him with one hand around both wrists. 

Then, Mark pulls his leg up again, and suddenly presses their crotches together. Pleasure zips up Ethan’s spine. He spreads his legs desperately. 

“Off, off.” He mumbles, shaking his leg a bit. Mark released his wrists so he can use both hands to remove Ethan’s pants. 

Ethan keeps his arms up, fisted into the pillow under him. 

Ethan feels fuzzy, of all things. He watches Mark remove his pants, then the guy’s own. He feels like he’s dreaming. He can’t remember why he considered not doing this. 

Mark settles back down again, and when he pressed them together, this time there’s nothing separating them. Ethan swears he’s leaking. 

“Still okay?” Mark asks. Ethan nods feverishly. 

Mark then circles a hot hand around both their dicks, so when he moves his hand he’s rubbing them both off. 

Ethan outright moans, back arching. Mark presses a kiss to his neck again, making these deep breathy sounds with every movement. 

“Haven’t done anything in 10 months. Not gonna last long.” Mark groans. 

“Me neither. F-feels so—“ Ethan’s eyelids flutter at the feeling he can’t put into words. He’s never felt so out of control. Like he might just explode at any second. Mark’s movement go jerky a bit. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking—oh my god, baby..” Mark babbles nonsense as he stutters and comes right between them. It’s a new sensation, to feel another dude orgasm right against him. Ethan watches with wide eyes at Mark’s face, the noises he’s making. 

Before he’s even come down from the high, Mark’s wrapping his hand fully around Ethan and pulling him off quickly. 

Ethan comes within the minute, back arching, toes curling. After ten months, it’s the best feeling in the world. So strong that Ethan’s brain just blanks completely. 

It’s quiet for a beat, before Mark rolls over off of him, catching his breath next to him. 

“That was a bit more than a kiss. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He gasps, arm over his eyes as he tries to get his breathing under control. 

As the high slowly wears off, Ethan wonders if he really enjoyed that because it’s Mark, or if he enjoyed it because he hasn’t done anything not even with his own hand in 10 entire months. That’s a long case of blue balls. 

He sits up, wiping his face, heart still beating quickly. He’s conflicted. If only complicated shit could’ve been left behind when everyone died. If only Ethan could figure out his own feelings he’s experiencing so he can stop basically torturing Mark. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Mark says, sitting up as well, brandishing a wash towel that he uses to clean him up, wiping the drying come from Ethan’s front. 

“I don’t know.” Ethan says, honest. He finds it hard to meet Mark’s eyes, embarrassed of all things. 

“I-it doesn’t have to happen again. If you didn’t enjoy it you don’t have to worry about it. We can just continue as we were. I’d rather have you here, it doesn’t have to be in the way I want it to be.” Mark rants, clearly thinking Ethan’s going to bolt first chance he has. 

“I’m not leaving. I told you I won’t. I’m just trying to figure out my head.” 

“Do you want space? To sleep alone tonight? To read? Anything. I’ll give you anything.” 

Finally, Ethan turns to him. He’s on his knees next to him, looking so defeated but more scared than anything. His eyes are glossy. More than anything, he’s undeniably attractive in the afterglow. Cheeks a tad pink, hair messy and falling in his eyes, lips swollen. That has to mean something, right? Ethan’s attracted to him, at least. Always has thought of Mark as hot. He’s also a great kisser. 

He has to take it one step at a time. He has to stop overthinking it. Why not just let whatever happens happen? He doesn’t have to marry the guy tomorrow or anything. Life in this world is far too short to worry about how he feels about his best friend. They could both die tomorrow. Tonight, even. 

For now, he pushes Mark’s shoulders so the man lies down, then he follows along, lying on his chest, hearing him stutter a relieved sigh. 

With his head on his chest, Ethan can hear his heartbeat, strong and steady. He reaches to Mark’s hand, lying on his stomach, and tangles their fingertips, testing the waters. 

Mark’s heartbeat picks up, his other hand tightening where he’s holding him. 

Ethan smirks a bit and lifts his head. Mark’s eyes are closed, but he peeks one open when he feels him move. He smiles, a sight Ethan doesn’t get to see as much anymore. 

“I miss you.” Ethan says, letting himself talk freely, not letting any doubts change what he thinks. He has to start talking without thinking more. Just lay it all out. 

“I’m right here.” Mark murmurs, hand squeezing his, eyebrows furrowing. 

“No..I miss you from before. The goof ball who would send me stupid funny videos at 3am and laughed at the dumbest shit even if it wasn’t funny. You know your people think of you as hard? Strict? I haven’t heard your real laugh a single time since I got here. I can’t even remember what it sounds like.” 

Mark looks up to the ceiling, sighing. 

“I had to let that go for a long time. I couldn’t be that person. I have a community that I’m responsible for. I had to get over the grief and keep us together. I’m trying to remember how to be who I was again, at least with you. I just find it hard when I feel like I lost so much of myself when it all changed. Like, I feel like I lost your Mark. Now I’m just this.” 

Ethan frowns, releasing Mark’s hand so he can reach up and wipe the man’s tears away. 

“I feel like I lost myself too. I thought of Spencer today and I just felt nothing. As if it was a past life Ethan who owned a dog, not me. Fuck, we’re depressed as hell.” Ethan sits up and swings his legs over him, straddling his waist. 

Mark smiles, but it’s sad. His hands feel up Ethan’s thighs around him. 

“Hey, I remember the you from before just like you remember the me from before. Maybe we should let it go. Let’s just be us right now.” 

Ethan’s nose pinches as he shakes his head. 

“God, that’s cheesy. So awful. Remember when I would just simply pat your back and you’d tell me not to touch you? Now you’re giving me some Nicolas Sparks level speeches.” 

Mark lifts onto his elbows so they’re a little closer. Ethan rubs his hands up the man’s bare chest, feeling him up without even thinking about it once. 

“I really only did that for the bit, for the videos. Every time you touched me I couldn’t think of anything but how much more I wanted you to touch me.” 

He just says stuff openly, so earnestly. Eyes boring right into his. Ethan swears his eyes are sparkling, the romantic fuck. 

“What about when I sat on your lap during that Santa video? When I gave you a beard.” Ethan remembers. Mark had been so disgusted because of the dog hair. It had stunk so badly for some reason. 

“Thought about that one for days. Usually I can play it off but you were just right there. Honestly I was nervous I’d get a stiffy cause you’re such a bouncy little shit.” 

Ethan giggles, playfully slapping his chest. 

“Yeah right, you didn’t have these feelings that far back..did you?” 

Mark lies back down, scoffing dryly, hands still gently rubbing circles into Ethan’s thighs. 

“I was kind of used to it by then. It was a bit harder cause we were so intent on making our videos so close to the line of what’s platonic and what’s just straight up porn. It was easier before, when I only saw you a few times a week. After we started the channel, it was nearly daily. You just innocently did so many things and had no idea how it affected me.” His eyes are dark, clearly remembering. Ethan tries not to blush.

“Damn, you started having feelings before unus annus? Like when?” Ethan tries desperately to remember anything at all. Any signs he may have missed. He can’t really think of anything other than that last night. Mark’s always been more introverted when he’s off camera. More than that, he’s a great actor and could hide anything if he really wanted to. 

Mark looks sheepish, like he doesn’t want to say. 

“C’mon, spill.” Ethan says, running a finger down the man’s surgery scar. Mark shivers a bit under him. He closes his eyes like he’s nervous and starts to talk. 

“The You’re Welcome tour. We were on the bus. I’d always just thought of you as cute before. Hilarious and silly, of course. Nothing more than that, really. I’d taken you in and made you one of us and you fit right in, despite being younger than everyone there. I’d just woken up. We were almost to Dallas. I came up to the front and you were at the little table editing. We were the only ones awake. I sat across from you and was going to check Twitter and you just started to laugh. I asked what was funny and you gave me the headphones and showed me the part of what you were editing. I don’t even remember what video it was but it was just some lame joke I’d made. I don’t know, it just sort of changed. I just sat there watching you edit and wondered how you would react if I just shut the laptop and leaned across to kiss you. It just escalated from there. I had more thoughts and tried to deny it but ya know...tour doesn’t give much privacy and when it was over the thoughts never stopped.” 

Ethan tries to calm the fluttering in his stomach. He’s sort of frozen, sat on top of the man. 

“Dallas. Mark..that’s 2017. That’s three years ago.” 

“June to be exact.” Mark says, eyes still closed. Ethan leans forward, lying down on him, resting his chin on his arms over his chest. 

“I didn’t know it was so long. That’s..fuck that’s a long time to hide something like this. How did you do that?” 

“I had a lot of denial and anger for a lot of the time. I was pissed at myself for thinking about you when I was with Aria. Then I had a few months where I went through a weird sexuality crisis. I’d never really had feelings for a guy before. Eventually, I just stopped letting it control everything. I thought if I ignored it and kept on as normal then it would eventually wear off. I’d get over you, or stop thinking about it all the time. Didn’t work, obviously. I was still working on it that last night.” 

Ethan scoots up a bit, and combs Mark’s hair back from his face with his fingers. The man finally opens his eyes, looking at him with an expression Ethan hasn’t really seen him do before. It makes him nervous for some reason. 

So he bends his neck and kisses him. Mark’s hands tighten on his waist, heart pounding under Ethan’s hand.

When they separate, Mark hums and smiles, eyes crinkling. It’s a glorious sight. 

“I hope you don’t feel like you had—“

“I wanted to, shut up and don’t move.” Ethan shushes him, reaching for the bedside table, picking up the Polaroid and snapping a photo of Mark under him before he has a chance to change his expression. 

“Hey, you haven’t gained as much weight as we’d like, but you’re better. I was thinking if you wanted to you could come on the scavenging trip this week?” 

Ethan shakes the Polaroid as it develops and grins. 

“I’d love to.” 

-

The next few days, Ethan tries not to think too much. After he initiated that kiss, Mark has slowly started to not hold himself back. He will place a hand on the small of Ethan’s back as they walk, or he will hold his hand as he reads the book. 

Ethan tries to ignore the fluttering in his stomach every time it happens. For some reason, he just can’t let himself go. He can’t stop thinking that at some point Mark will do something that he ends up not wanting. He doesn’t know why but it’s all he can think sometimes. 

The day before the trip, Mark brings him a Lego set for something to do for those few hours before bed when there’s nothing to do. He sits spread out on the hardwood floor with the package. 

Ethan starts out fine, following the instructions and putting together the castle it’s meant to be. Eventually, he gets impatient and unfocused. He leans back away from the project, sighing. 

Looking over, he finds Mark on his stomach, chin on his folded hands, watching him with an expression he can’t explain. 

“What?” Ethan asks, pouting. He hasn’t had his ADD medicine in months upon months. It’s been a wild ride getting used to just being like this all the time now. 

“Nothing.” Mark says, but he’s smiling a bit, eyes warm. 

“What?!” Ethan asks again, looking around like he’s missing something. 

“You had your tongue out. S’cute.” Mark murmurs, all shy like. 

Ethan stretches, hand coming up to try and rub out the soreness in his shoulders. 

“C’mere.” Mark says, voice low. He suddenly lifts up, standing to help him up. 

Ethan lets himself be pulled up, then Mark’s hands grip the hem of his shirt and hesitate. 

Ethan just raises an eyebrow and lifts his arm so Mark can pull his shirt off. The man pauses, eyes not wondering but giving him that same look as before. 

“I’m starting to remember things I never noticed before. You would give me that look sometimes while we were recording or doing whatever. I always assumed it was the face you made when you thought I was being stupid.” Ethan murmurs as Mark leads him to the bed and has him lie across it on his stomach. 

“Couldn’t be more of an opposite.” Mark replies, then swings his legs over him so he’s straddling Ethan’s hips, his hands coming to rest on his shoulders. Ethan then realises what’s going on. Mark’s going to give him a massage. 

The man’s hands begin their work, digging just hard enough but not enough to be overly painful. Ethan hums in delight as he relaxes more and more by the second. 

Mark’s hands are wonderful, working from his neck to his lower back. 

“Why’re you so good at this.” Ethan sighs the question. 

“I did a lot of research about massages. We were going to record us getting them remember? Then the place said we couldn’t record in there.” Mark’s hands stop just at the top of his ass, pressing down there but not going any further. The bed dips as Mark leans down over him and presses a kiss to his shoulder. 

“Wanna try something. Tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable.” He says, then he gives Ethan a pillow for his head. 

Ethan just waits as Mark slides his joggers down, then his briefs, so his arse is on display. He blushes even though he’s on his stomach so Mark can’t see his face. 

The man then brings in another pillow, sliding it under him so then his ass is up in the air. Ethan shivers a bit, cold and also nervous. 

A bit of rustling, and a drawer open and closing, then Mark is situating behind him, hands warm when they spread his cheeks. 

It’s kind of awkward, but Ethan thinks that’s probably just him overthinking it a bit. This is normal, right? Maybe Mark is just going to—

A wet finger presses to his arsehole, not pressing in but there. 

Mark sets his dry hand on the small of Ethan’s back when he notices him tense up. 

“This okay? Don’t let me do anything you don’t want. Ethan, you have to tell me what you’re feeling.”

“A bit nervous.” Ethan says honestly, holding the pillow tightly under him. 

Mark’s hand rubs gentle circles into his back for a minute. 

“Okay?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” Ethan murmurs. 

At his approval, Mark finally presses his finger into him. It doesn’t hurt in the slightest. It just feels strange. His finger pumps a few times, then there’s another pressing in with it. Ethan’s eyebrows furrow as he’s stretched just a bit. It still isn’t really painful. Just still weird. 

“Okay..up and around..” Mark whispers to himself. Ethan’s just about to ask what he’s saying, when suddenly Mark’s fingers curl inside of him and hit something that makes him moan breathily, quickly hardening against the pillow below him. 

“There ya are.” Mark says, dry hand feeling up the dip in his back as he starts to massage that spot in him, sending wave after wave of pleasure over him. 

Ethan can’t do anything but make noise, gripping the pillow tightly, toes curling. It’s the most pleasurable thing he’s felt in his life. 

“Fuckin’ hell. It feel good?” Mark asks, fingers moving back only to press against that spot even harder. Ethan just moans, hips lifting desperately. He can’t even think. 

“Answer me, Ethan.” Mark says darkly, dry hand suddenly gripping one of his ass cheeks tightly. Ethan fists the sheets under him, trying to breathe as Mark doesn’t relent his constant pressing. 

“G-good. So—oh fuck. I can’t..” Ethan speaks gibberish as he gets dangerously close quicker than he can say a complete word. 

“That’s nice. So beautiful.” Mark sounds like he’s talking mostly to himself. Ethan’s back arches as he sees white, coming harder than he ever has before in his life. 

He sees nothing but white spots as Mark rolls him over and wipes him clean, then he’s in his vision, hand on his chest like he’s checking his pulse. 

“I remember that anatomy video.” He says cockily, grinning. Ethan shoves him back, giggling. He’s relaxed now, but his high is long from worn off. He feels bubbly all over. 

“I couldn’t even think of anything. Have you done that before?” He asks, still pressing Mark back but following him, curling up with him against the cushioned headboard. 

“Nope.” Mark says, not really silly anymore. It’s short lived, these days. 

Ethan can only handle so much eye contact. Mark wears his heart on his sleeve so often. It’s hard to ignore the warm unbelievably loving glint in his eyes when he’s just watching him all the time. So he leans in for a kiss. Mark gladly accepts, fingers tangling with his. 

Before during that first kiss, it was just testing the waters. Now, they’re kissing casually just to do it. Holding hands like nothing. Touching each other all over. Ethan leans back and exhales shakily. It feels like a relationship. 

Lying down, he decides maybe he won’t feel put off. They’ve gone this far, haven’t they? If anything, it feels immensely right. Natural. Easy. 

-

Ethan slips into the passenger seat of the truck excitedly, holding his axe like he’s a child with a lollipop. 

Mark starts the truck, an amused look on his face. 

“It’s only a 20 minute drive. Why’re you excited like we’re going to Disney?” He asks. Ethan shrugs, watching the other two vehicles pull out in front of them. They drive in a line towards the gated wall. 

“I’ve been doing pretty much nothing forever now. I can’t wait to see something new.” He says. 

Mark wasn’t wrong. The drive is pretty short. Washington is a gorgeous state. Though it’s usually slightly foggy all the time and it has this grey tone to everything, giving it a melancholy feel, it has some beautiful amazingly tall trees. It’s just nice. 

They arrive in whatever town it is and park in front of a Walmart. There’s surprisingly not that many cars in the parking lot. 

There’s five or six people with them. Everyone but Ethan carries a handgun in a holster, but they all wield melee weapons first and foremost. Noise attracts the walkers, as they know. Ethan will probably get a gun at some point. Mark tells him he will need training first. 

“Okay. The rest of the town is about a mile down. We clear this first and get anything we need. We have the truck so if we find a crib or anything bigger like that we can carry. Landon, you keep watch—“ Mark suddenly stops, eyes whipping over to the road. 

They all hear it. Noise. A rumbling. A car? The suspicion is confirmed when an SUV pulls into the parking lot, followed by two motorcycles, each with two people on them. 

“We don’t fire first. Helen, Ethan.” He doesn’t need to say more than that. The woman, Helen, comes to stand halfway in front of Ethan, clearly protecting him. Ethan doesn’t get why. It’s people!

The strangers park their vehicles and a group approaches. They have a few more bodies, for sure, but they seem to be small as well. 

“Mornin’! We’re just passing through. Haven’t seen anyone for days now!” One of the strangers say. They seem to be all men, like some sort of biker gang looking types. They seem nice, though. 

“We’re just passing as well. We were just leaving, actually.” Mark says. The strangers look to each other. 

“You find anything in there?” 

“We didn’t head in. Simply stopped here to regroup. We want to make it to California by nightfall so we should really be headed out.” Mark says, nodding his head, clearly trying to respectfully tell the guys to piss off. 

“Weird. You’re just passing through but your cars are empty. Where’s your supplies? Do you have a camp around here?” 

Ethan assumes they’re screwed now. These guys are clearly out for supplies. They look like they haven’t even eaten today. 

“We have an RV on the other side of town with all of our stuff. Had to come here to siphon some gas for it. We should really be leaving now, though. It was nice to meet you.” Mark gestures to the abandoned cars around them. 

The guy nods, holding his hands up in a ‘okay I get it’ gesture. He waves goodbye and the group turns, walking back to their vehicles. 

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Mark starts to say something to Fiona standing next to him. He looks angry. Ethan watches him, trying to hear what he’s saying. Suddenly, Mark’s eyes widen, still trained on the people across the lot. 

“Cover!” He shouts, and the group disperses as shots are fired. Ethan’s heart rate spikes. Helen shoves him down against the truck next to them and tells him to stay as she peeks around the bed of the truck, dropping her crowbar and returning fire. The noise is so loud that his ears ring. Ethan looks around the chaos for Mark, but he doesn’t see anyone from the group, actually. 

A wrongly timed peek from around the truck and then Helen’s flopped onto the ground, a hole in her head. 

Ethan can’t breathe. He stares down at her, at the blood oozing from her head, and he can’t move. 

Then, there’s hands on him, laying him down. It’s quiet, he realises. Where’s the shooting? 

Red stained hands wipe down his face, spreading blood onto him. It’s Mark. Where’s he getting all that blood? Once he’s spread it all over Ethan’s cheek and head, he sprawls out over him, laying right on top of him. 

“Don’t move, baby, don’t breathe. Play dead.” Mark whispers harshly. The ground is cold and hard against his back. It’s hard to breathe anyway with how the man’s laying on him. 

Ethan doesn’t know what’s happening. His brain is jumbled, but he closes his eyes and plays dead as he’s told. 

Footsteps near. 

“Please. Please don’t. I have a family.” Ethan hears Fiona plead. A single gunshot and her voice is gone. 

Ethan then gets the severity of the situation. He holds his breath, finding it strangely not painful to do so. Fight or flight, he supposes. 

The footsteps move around, and he hears two more shots. When they get to them, Ethan feels Mark shake above him, like they’re checking to make sure they’re dead. 

“Alright. Let’s head out. They must be set up further north.” 

Ethan would exhale in relief if he could. They’re south, actually, he knows. 

He doesn’t breathe until he hears the vehicles have completely driven away. 

He gasps for air, opening his eyes. He can see red on his nose from where Mark wiped the blood on him. 

“They’re gone. Mark, fuck, I can’t breathe.” Ethan shoves the guy off of him and catches his breath. 

He lies there for a few seconds, trying not to freak out. Then, it becomes painfully obvious that it’s far too quiet. 

Sitting up, he looks to Mark. The man’s eyes are closed, mouth slacked. There’s blood. A lot of blood. On his abdomen. Ethan lifts the guy’s shirt, finding the bullet wound. Mark’s been shot. 

Oh my god, Mark’s been shot. 

“Hey, hey, wake up. Mark, oh fuck. Mark, please.” Ethan slaps him but the man doesn’t wake. Standing up, Ethan looks around. The ground is littered with bodies. There’s no survivors. Nobody’s moving. Nobody’s breathing. Ethan places his fingers on Mark’s wrist, and finds the smallest pulse. Faint, but there. 

“Okay okay okay okay.” Ethan begins to count to ten, then to zero again, over and over as he opens the door to the truck next to them. He can’t have a panic attack right now. Not when he has to get Mark back to Westport. Back to a doctor. He has to stay collected. 

Feeling onto Mark’s back, he finds there’s no exit wound. That’s good right? Or is that the bad one? Ethan can’t remember. He just yanks his zip jacket off and ties it as tight as he can around Mark’s waist, putting pressure on his wound. He tries desperately to remember the shows he’s seen on tv before. The movies. What did they do? What’s the next step?

He’s weak, but he supposes it’s the adrenaline that causes him to be able to pull Mark into the truck with hands under his pits. The man’s heavy as hell, especially with his gained muscle. 

Ethan does his best, yelling desperately as he uses whatever strength he can muster up to pull Mark into the vehicle. Then, he reclines the seat so he’s laying down. 

He feels dizzy as he slips into the drivers seat, starting the truck and peeling out of the parking lot, heading the way they came. He doesn’t know the exact way, but there’s still road signs. He’s weakened even more from the physical exertion, but he drives 85 down the winding highway with one hand. The other, shaking the guy. 

“Mark, please don’t die. I c-can’t do this alone.” Everything’s blurry, and he realises it’s because he’s crying. 

Suddenly, Mark gurgles next to him, groaning like he’s waking up from a sleep. Ethan glances over at him as much as he safely can while he speeds down the road. 

“Oh my god, oh fuck, stay awake!” Ethan cries, taking Mark’s hand. The man weakly squeezes back. 

“Are...you okay?” Mark chokes out, eyes bloodshot but looking him over, despite having a literal hole in his damn stomach. 

“What? I’m fine! You’ve been shot, Mark! You’re the one hurt here!” He exclaims. Mark chokes out a laugh, then groans, free hand clutching the jacket holding pressure on his wound. 

“Fuck..I’m sorry. I love you so much, Ethan. D-don’t forget that.” He slurs. He doesn’t seem to be in pain. If Ethan can remember correctly, that’s not a good thing. 

“Don’t do that. Hey, don’t talk like you’re going to die.” Ethan says, then gasps in relief when the Westport sign comes into view. Then, Mark’s hand goes limp in his. He’s out again. 

Ethan honks the horn wildly, leading the people guarding the gate to open up quickly. He parks sloppily, getting out and rushing to the other side, leaving his door open carelessly. Luckily, the makeshift hospital building is first thing on the left. 

“I need a doctor! He’s been shot!” Ethan cries out. People surround him, and the noise level quickly rises when he opens the door to reveal Mark, soaked with blood, out cold. 

A few men pull him out and rush him indoors, placing him on the table in a sort of operating room. Ethan follows behind. He tries to watch, or move, or explain what’s happened, but the adrenaline quickly wears off now that Mark is safe in doctors hands. Now, the anxiety and the severity of what’s just happened comes crashing down. He collapses onto the floor, seeing white. 

-

When Ethan comes to, he’s laying on a couch in the lobby, hooked up to a single drip. He sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes, then wheels his drip over to the desk. 

“How long have I been—“ Ethan stops, because he can hear him. He can hear Mark. The lady at the desk smiles. 

“You’ve been out for quite a while. It’s almost 9PM. He had surgery and the bullet was removed. It didn’t hit anything important. We had to give him our strongest stuff so he wouldn’t feel anything. He’s really high on the medicine right now but you can see him.” 

Ethan nods thankfully and follows the sound of Mark’s voice. Down the hallway and into a door. When he steps in, he finds Mark lying on the bed, just barely sat up so he can look around the room. 

There’s a few people about, fiddling with machines or medicine or whatever. Mark is loudly saying that he’d love to film his own surgery and put it on YouTube. He turns at the sound of the door closing. 

“Ethan!” He exclaims, making grabby hands for him like a baby. 

Ethan steps up and sits on the edge of the bed, smiling with teary eyes. Mark grips his arm loosely, grinning all silly at him. He pulls the blanket down a bit and lifts the man’s shirt, having a look at the bandage. No blood seeping through. That’s good. 

“Don’t cry, I’m sorry I’m so sorry.” Mark says, weakly reaching for his face but far too loopy to do so. Ethan laughs and combs Mark’s frizzy hair back from his face. He sort of doesn’t care that the people in the room could easily be watching how touchy they are. 

“You don’t have anything to apologise for. I’m just happy you’re okay. You really scared me.” He explains. Mark’s eyes are quickly tearing up just from seeing him cry. So empathetic, even on drugs. 

“I love you so much. You’re so good to me.” Mark suddenly slurs, then starts to properly cry. Ethan smiles, amused, and squeezes the man’s hand, shushing him gently. 

“Hey, we’re okay. Mark don’t cry.” Ethan wishes he could lay with him, but he doesn’t want to accidentally pull his stitches or something. 

“I just love you so much. Come—I wanna..” he pulls weakly at Ethan’s hands. 

Smiling, Ethan leans in and gives him a kiss. Just a small one, minding the people in the room. That’s out now, though. 

“Will you marry me?” Mark suddenly asks, eyes droopy and smile lopsided. Ethan giggles, squeezing his hands. 

“I wish I could record you right now. You’re going to be so embarrassed.” 

Mark waves his hand sleepily, head falling back against the pillow. Ethan pulls the blanket up higher on him. 

“Not embarrass if it’s true.” Mark mumbles, eyes fluttering. Ethan shakes his head and takes out one of the pillows under him so he’s lying fully down. 

“Shh, go to sleep. You need your rest.” 

Mark nods, agreeing, then falls asleep within about five seconds. 

Ethan stands, cheeks heating up as he looks around the room, finding the people clearly trying to act like they didn’t just hear all of that. 

“Um..please keep that to yourselves. He doesn’t want to announce anything. We aren’t, like, official.” Ethan cringes at his own words. He sounds like a high schooler or something. Of course they’re ‘official’. They just haven’t put the label on it. 

And Ethan’s completely fine with it. He sits on the chair next to Mark’s bed. 

He hates that it took Mark almost dying for him to realise he loves the guy. He doesn’t know how he’s been so oblivious to his own feelings, but he sure won’t waste anymore time thinking he might be put off. 

He curls up in the chair, keeping his arm with the iv straightened, and falls right back asleep. 

-

“Ethan.” 

Ethan jerks awake, blinking his sleep away and quickly standing, stepping to Mark’s bedside. 

“You okay?” He asks, rubbing his eyes so he can get a good look at him. It’s really dim in the room, only lit by a lantern on the counter a few feet away. 

“I’m okay. What happened?” Mark asks, seeming to be sober now. 

“You were shot. You saved my fucking life, that’s what happened. You rubbed your own blood on me and had me play dead. You passed out before the guys left and I put you in the truck and drove you back. You had surgery.” 

“Yeah it hurts like a bitch. Are the others..?” Mark trails off when Ethan shakes his head sadly, remembering the ground just littered with the people in their group. The man sighs, reaching for him, pulling him down for a kiss. 

Ethan complies, kissing him for a few moments, before pulling back a few millimetres. 

“I love you too.” He says, finally. 

Mark hand on the back of his neck tightens, and he’s shaky when he takes a deep breath. 

“A-are you—“

“Yes I’m sure.” Ethan rolls his eyes with a smile and kisses him again. Mark’s breathing all irregular. 

“I’ve been thinking..the people are set up here. There’s so many people that there’s far smarter and better people to lead this group. There’s someone in pretty much every profession. They could easily go on without me. Let’s just leave. Go to our hometowns and see if our families and friends are alive.” Mark speaks in a hushed whisper, conscious of anyone who could be outside the door. 

Ethan combs through Mark’s hair gently, scratching at his scalp. The man’s eyes flutter in response, humming at the feeling. 

“This is our town, Mark. It’s so shit out there, especially with just two people. You really want to leave?” Ethan speaks just as quietly. Mark nods. 

“Yeah. I never wanted this job. To be responsible for a town.I just wanted to get to Cincinnati. I can’t bring all these people across country. There’s not enough gas, and nobody wants to leave. It’s safe here, but it’s killing us. Don’t you want to know if your family is okay?” 

“You’d take us all the way to Maine? What if it’s worse over there? What if something happens?” 

“Better then sitting around here surviving until we both eventually die on a run. Imagine. Just us two, on the road. Only responsible for each other.” 

Ethan smiles, heart speeding up at the thought. Of course he wants to. He wants nothing more than to know if his family is alive. On the other hand, is it really worth it? They will have to use a full tank and then just hope they find gas to siphon when they hit E. They can’t make it all the way across country on foot. 

“I’ll have to think it over. You’re really serious about this?” 

Mark nods, squeezing his hand. 

“Totally serious.” The door opens, and in comes a lady to check up on Mark, make sure he hasn’t opened any stitches. 

Ethan moves back over to the chair and pulls his knees to his chest, watching Mark as he mulls the idea over. It scares him, that’s for sure. Would it really be worth it?

  * 1 MONTH LATER -



It’s 5AM. Mark slides open the gate on the wall, shutting it back when Ethan drives through. 

Sliding into the passenger seat, Mark cranks the heat and grins far too excitedly for hour early it is. He’s changed a good bit just in the past week. More smiley, more goofy. More.. _Mark_ , really. 

“Okay, okay, chill out a bit. Tell me you didn’t forget the CDs.” 

Mark reaches into the glove box and pulls the CD sleeve out, popping in a Weezer album. 

“Course not! Onwards and upwards!” Mark orders excitedly. Ethan smiles, unable to contain the fondness from spreading over his face. Mark notices, chuckling and leaning across the centre console to plot a kiss on his lips. 

“So happy we’re doing this. I love you.” He says, quieter now. 

Ethan takes his hand, easing his foot off the brake at the same time. 

“Love you too.” He murmurs happily, and starts the drive. He peeks in the rearview mirror, watching Westport quickly vanish behind them as he drives away. He’s nervous. Scared of the trip ahead. It will be rough, dangerous. A wild goose chase that could easily end in nothing but more grief. 

He looks over to Mark, who’s singing along to the song. The sunrise is just barely starting, casting gentle light over his silhouette. Ethan feels a sense of calm wash over him. He squeezes the man’s hand. 

He’ll be just fine. As long as he has Mark, he can do anything. 


	2. Mark’s POV- love in a dead world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love in a dead world, the same story, but from Mark’s POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so yall seemed excited about the idea of Mark’s POV, so here it is! Of course, it didn’t take to long to write because I already had the story and events written. Mainly, the challenge in this was trying to convey how I would see Mark’s brain working through all of this. 
> 
> This may come as a surprise, but my personality type is so much like Mark’s. I say this might be a surprise because all of my crankiplier fics are from Ethan’s pov, so you’d think I would understand him better. It’s sort of the opposite. I’m attracted to an Ethan type, while I’m 100% a mark type, so I find it easier to write as an Ethan, if that makes any fucking sense at all?? (Not saying I’m attracted to Ethan, yall, I am in fact gay as hell). 
> 
> Ugh I think I’m confusing yall more. Basically, what I’m saying, is that writing from mark’s perspective really causes me to take a look at myself, because I can relate to him irl so easily, and it’s almost painful sometimes when I have to address feelings and shit that I would love to just ignore. 
> 
> Okay, I’ll try to shorten this mess up: this was more of a challenge than writing the original story in the first place, and I got emotional sometimes because though I’m not going through a zombie apocalypse, I feel a lot of the things this fic’s mark feels on a day to day basis. 
> 
> Just..thank yall for pushing me to write more. Sometimes it’s the only thing that gets me through the day. This may just seem like a simple mark POV, but I’ve never felt like it was so personal. 
> 
> If anyone understands this rant, just know I’m thankful for y’all’s kind comments. I know I am anonymous on this site, and if my real community of people knew it was me writing this then it would be a shit storm. Not just because of the whole shipping bad rep, but also because nobody online or irl knows I write these. I put on a persona online, but while writing this chapter, I used language and thoughts I feel day to day, and it really felt like writing a diary. 
> 
> Yall now know me more than anyone else on the internet knows me, just know I’m thankful I have a place to let that go. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll post my last fic and give yall my channel name in the notes. Just ‘come out’ basically. Idk it’s probably stupid to be confessing like this here, but I’m sure nobody reads into these notes too much anyway. 
> 
> Sorry for the stupidly long note! You guys are so appreciated pls just never forget that. Even if you don’t comment, you mean a lot to me. 💚

Mark sits in the restaurant, eyes glossy as he stares out of the window, hands around his warm coffee that he hasn’t had a single sip of yet. 

“You alright, M?” 

Mark blinks out of his thoughts, blue-green eyes fading from his memory. He looks up and finds it’s Derek, looking worried. Mark runs a hand through his hair, heart aching, and nods. 

“I’m fine, what’s up?”

“Lily was bit on the run. Her brother won’t let anyone but you do it.” 

Mark closes his eyes, hands tightening around his mug, stomach turning. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He says. Derek steps away, leaving Mark to his own. 

The man runs a hand down his face. Lily is one of their best gunners. She has law enforcement experience and incredible aim. 

Was, Mark corrects himself. She _was_ one of their best gunners. 

Not taking a single sip of his coffee, Mark stands and leaves the restaurant, sauntering over to the storage building. Many people greet him on the way. He says hello and good day wherever needed, but doesn’t bother to wipe the frown on his face. His people have never seen him as cheerful, and that’s definitely not changing today. 

He locks the storage garage door behind himself, stepping through the large open building and to the basement, where a conveniently soundproof room sits. 

The execution room, he calls it. That’s what it is, even if nobody wants to accept it. 

Lily sits unbound in the middle of the room. Her brother, George, just a mere 13 years old, stands next to the door, along with Derek and Helen. Mark steps up to the boy and sets a hand on his shoulder. He’s not even crying or anything. 

“You shouldn’t watch.” Mark says. George stays put, jaw clenching. 

“I have to be here.” 

Mark exhales slowly and approaches Lily, hand on his holstered gun. The woman watches him, breathing heavily, a large blood stain on her shoulder. She’s already sweating, probably only has a few minutes. 

“I’m sorry, M, it came out of nowhere. We were in formation—“

“It’s okay,” Mark reassures her, crouching down to her position, “do you wish to turn?” 

She immediately shakes her head, tears streaming down her face. 

“Don’t let me turn into one of those fuckers. I’ve said my goodbyes. I’m ready.” 

Mark takes a breath and pulls out his gun. He lifts it and gently presses the barrel to her temple. At the touch, she sobs, shaking. 

“Hey, look at me,” she does, eyes meeting his, “you’ll be okay. George will be okay. Do you have anything you want to say?” 

She just looks at him, trying to breathe through her sobbing, then she shakes her head, hand gripping Mark’s wrist on her unbit shoulder. 

Mark waits until her breathing calms, until she gives him a small nod, eyes closing. 

The gunshot is loud in the small room. Lily flies back onto the ground, gone. Mark stands and holsters his gun, wiping the blood splash from his face. Helen and Derek step to Lily to clean her up. Mark goes to leave and finds George is still just stone faced, eyes on the people moving his dead sister. 

“I’m sorry.” Mark says. George gives him a respectful nod. 

“You only did what I didn’t have the balls to do. Thank you.” The young boy says, then follows Derek and Helen as they transport Lily. 

Mark is still wiping blood from his face when he steps back into the street, feeling everything and somehow nothing at all at the same time. 

“M, we have a newcomer. A boy in his 20s was found with a photo of Alex Young outside of the wall. He has severe dehydration and he looks like he hasn’t eaten a solid meal in months.” Dr. Dawn steps beside him as they make their way to the makeshift hospital. 

“Okay, I’ll come have a look—“

“M, can you help us out? Someone messed up the wall and now there’s a hole.” Polly jogs up, rolling her eyes. Mark turns away from the hospital entrance. 

“Um, I’ll visit the boy tomorrow. Inform the rest of the Young family and make sure he gets treated!” Mark tells Dr. Dawn, then turns to follow Polly. 

They get newcomers every now and then. He likes to make sure he visits them and gives them the full rundown of this place, but he is a busy guy. It can wait. 

-

It’s chilly today, but not freezing. Mark, wearing the flannel that probably belongs to a now dead man, sits at the edge of his bed, gun in his hands. 

He takes out the clip, heart skipping at the click, checking to see it’s full. Always fully loaded, he makes sure of it. Replacing the clip, he holds the gun parallel to his nose. If it went off it would hit the ceiling. He wonders what would happen if he angled it further. To his head. 

A flash of hazel eyes in his memory, and Mark holsters his gun immediately and steps over to his wardrobe, opening it upand staring at the small pile of jeans in the bottom. The hoodie is underneath. He doesn’t need to see it, he knows it’s there. 

It’s enough. 

Closing the wardrobe, Mark takes his clipboard, sticking a pencil onto his ear, and leaves his room. 

Once outside, he’s met by the group. They’ve been having teaching sessions lately. Dr. Dawn teaching a group her medical knowledge, Lilly teaching a group in the garden, Derek teaching a group combat and aim, Mark teaches their future leaders and carpenters, and so on. It’s important to teach the younger men and women their ways so they can keep the town going when they’re gone. 

“Alright. Today we’re going to be talking about the importance of proper measuring, and for our leaders, how to resolve conflict.” Mark begins his lecture as they walk towards the wall. The wall was planned carefully with the material they had, but mess ups did happen, such as the one yesterday, due to workers not paying proper attention to blueprints and written instructions. 

Gesturing to the wall, Mark talks about what could happen if just one thing wasn’t measured correctly to account for the piece next to it, how it would affect the entire structure. 

He doesn’t mind teaching as much as his other duties. Looking into the young people’s faces, eager to learn despite the shit show that is the world now, gives him some hope. He’s lost so much, and most days he lies awake in bed wonders if there’s a point anymore, but at least when he teaches, he knows there’s a future. Despite being good at it, giving speeches and talking to a crowd, Mark was never one to prefer it. He’s an introvert at heart, and—

“ _Mark_!”

Hearing his real name for the first time in 10 months, Mark’s so surprised that he doesn’t even recognise the voice. 

Yet, stopping in his tracks and looking towards the voice, he recognises him immediately. Even across the entire street, he’d recognise those eyes anywhere. Those hazel eyes he painfully thinks of multiple times a day. Those eyes that are getting closer alarmingly fast. 

Mark can only hand off his clipboard before the impact. He can’t feel his legs, but they must’ve braced because he’s still upright. 

He smells the same. He feels different, though. Skinny. Tinier than he was, but so devastatingly familiar. Mark can’t breathe. 

He holds the boy tightly, so tight he’s pretty sure he’s lifting him. 

“Oh my god, Ethan, I thought you were dead.” Mark manages to choke out. The boy is crying against him, shaking all over. 

“I thought _you_ were dead! Fuck, I’m gonna pass out.” Ethan says. His voice sends a chill down Mark’s spine. He almost forgot his voice after so long without it. He almost forgot how just the sound could make his heart skip. 

Opening his eyes, Mark realises they have an audience. Even people across the street have stopped to stare. Nobody calls him by his real name, though most people here know it. In fact,there’s probably plenty of people here who recognise the boy. 

Mark forces his legs to move, pulling Ethan into the apartment commons, where he easily lifts the boy by his waist onto the kitchen counter, and brandishes a bottle of water. 

The boy drinks, wiping his tears away. Mark can’t look away, and can’t _not_ touch him with a hand on his leg. He’s dreamed of this a few times, of Ethan being alive, but it only ended in Mark waking up in tears, having to go for a run just so he doesn’t have a panic attack. It would leave him on autopilot for days every time, unable to get the amazing dream from his head. He would be scared to sleep again, not wanting to wake up and realise it was all just a dream again. 

Mark wants to pull him in and never let him go. If he believed in a god, perhaps he would fall to his knees and thank the heavens until his throat is sore. If he didn’t have self control, perhaps he would just fucking press Ethan to the counter and kiss him. If he were impulsive, perhaps he would scoop the boy up and get in a car and leave, never to look back. 

Instead, he watches him down the water, trying to calm his ever pounding heart. 

“Seeing familiar faces usually isn’t good these days. Fuck, Ethan, I tried to get to your house. I tried for days. There were just too many of them. The biters. How did you get here? When did you leave?” Mark can’t help but blabber a bit. It’s true, he had tried for days to get to Ethan’s. They didn’t live too incredibly far from each other, but this was before Mark met Derek and Helen, and their other fighters. Mark had fought through as much of the hoard as he could, for hours at a time, for days, trying to get to the boy’s house. So much sweat and tears, only to find Ethan’s entire street filled with them. Too many to fight through. 

He’d cried for days after that, mourning the unknown. Knowing it was highly likely Ethan was among the things, shuffling autonomously through the hoard, nothing but a monster now. 

He’d grieved the fact that he had to leave. He’d been guilty for months, thinking of the possibility that Ethan was trapped. Then, he had to try and get over him. Over losing him. 

That part never ended. It was fresh every time he thought of it. His yearning for just one more hug, just five more minutes, just one more glance at him. It was worse than just losing someone to death, because he didn’t know. The not knowing was the worst part. 

Ethan tells him about his experience. About Miley and Spencer, about trying to scavenge, about meeting Alex. 

Mark can’t help himself. He steps between the boy’s legs, pulling him into another hug, feeling his body heat, his breathing. He’s alive. He’s here. This isn’t a dream. 

“There’s a woman here, I believe the sister of this Alex. She said that Westport was evacuated pretty much immediately and told LA would have a military safe camp. We all just happened to find each other and made our way back, knowing it would be abandoned. I think your Alex got left behind like most of the town did. There were maybe two or three biters when we got here. Completely safe.” Mark says, pulling away but staying right there. Ethan’s cheekbones are more prominent. Dark circles under his eyes. His hair, thinned out from the lack of nutrients.

Mark feels the familiar surge of protectiveness he hasn’t felt in ten months. The need to make the boy happy, safe, fed. The feeling you only get when you love someone so much you’d do anything, be anything, for them. 

It’s almost too strong to handle, especially since Mark feels anything but emotionally stable right now. He feels like he could laugh. He can’t remember the last time he laughed. 

“He’s sugarcoating it,” Dr. Dawn then steps into the room, smiling, “he took in anyone he could. He’s saved every life here, reinvented this town so we could live easier, and told us exactly how to make that wall out there. He’s rightfully deserved the role as our leader and every person here would agree.”

Ethan raises an eyebrow at this information, smile playing at his lips, eyes sparkling.

“You’re the big man?” 

Mark just shrugs, afraid he will say something stupid like ‘you’re breathtaking’ if he opens his mouth right now. 

“I didn’t decide that. It just kind of happened. People recognised me and sort of boosted that, I guess.”

“Your hair’s long again.” Ethan suddenly says. Dr. Dawn tells them to meet at the Young families room and leaves them to some privacy.

Mark smiles, pushing his hair back from his face and behind his ears. It is long again. He hasn’t grown it out intentionally, he just sort of forgets to cut it until it actually starts annoying him, making his neck sweat or something. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t really spend much time in front of the mirror anymore. You, on the other hand, look like you’re 19 again.” Mark takes his hand and circles it around Ethan’s wrist, showing the boy how much extra space there is. His heart aches, not only touching him, but seeing him so unhealthy. He wants to take him to the restaurant immediately, have him eat the entire menu, but he knows the boy’s been stocked full of liquids. God, the one time Mark gets held up before visiting a newcomer. Of course it’s Ethan. Why not?

“Alex and I lived in the woods outside of LA for 10 months. We mostly lived off squirrels and the occasional canned food we could scavenge.” Ethan laughs, but it’s hollow. 

Mark tries not to let himself cry. He must’ve driven passed the spot when he and the gang left LA for here. Perhaps if he’d paid more attention when they were driving. Maybe he would’ve seen Ethan’s car. Guilt eats him up. He was there the whole time. Starving. Surviving on his own. Scared. Mark wants nothing more than to go back. Change his actions. 

“I’m sorry. God, if I’d known you were in your house I would’ve tried for longer. I should’ve found a way to leave a note or something. Anything.” Mark still measures the space between his fingers and Ethan’s wrist, unable to let go of him. He can feel the boy’s heartbeat under his fingers. Not regular, but so much there. 

“Fuck, Mark, at least we’re here. I never thought I’d see anyone again. I never thought I’d see you and I couldn’t stop thinking about the last thing I said..how I didn’t hug you, or Cathryn, or Aria.”

At the mention of her name, Mark feels his jaw clench, and he’s suddenly reminded of a different guilt. Of falling asleep a week before the disease, back to hers, wanting nothing more than for her to be someone else. Then she’d flown to her families for a visit, and Mark never saw her again. It almost felt like punishment, for his adultery thoughts. 

It’s quiet for a few moments, the air stagnant. There’s a knock at the door, and his hand falls away from Ethan’s. They both remember the last thing they said to each other easily. Of course, they never talked about it. That was before. Things are different now, Mark reminds himself. He never wanted Ethan to know then, and he doesn’t plan on confessing now. He’s lost too much to lose him. He refuses to lose him. Not again. 

“Sorry to interrupt. M, Emily wants to know if we have enough resources to start expanding to another apartment building this week so we can be prepared for the newcomers trip?”

“M?” Ethan teases. Mark can’t help but smile, stepping over to Trey. 

“The apartment isn’t in the best shape due to the foundation issue. We will need to test it’s structural integrity. Honestly, we should wait for the newcomers trip. Think of the wealth of the group. Have Emily do a walkthrough with her students to see if we could fix it up in time.” Mark nods to Trey as he talks. Writing this onto his clipboard, the man says he will tell Emily and leaves.

Ethan hops off the counter as Mark steps back over to him.

“The group kind of just calls me M. I sort of left Mark behind when everything happened. Even people who were fans before go with it.”

“Do you want me to call you that as well?” Ethan asks, shivering like he’s cold. Mark knows how to fix that, and he will. The boy is probably cold because he’s so skinny. It’s chilly for Mark, so it’s probably freezing for him, no fat or muscle to protect him. He’s just bones. 

“No. You can keep Mark. You’re the only one here who knew him.” He decides to say, feeling devastatingly sad for a few seconds, before he places a hand on Ethan’s back and brings him the opposite direction of the exit towards the stairs, blinking away the memories of how it felt to have Ethan’s cheek under his lips. 

“Aren’t we supposed to go to Alex’s family?” Ethan asks as Mark leads him up the stairs. He worries about how much stamina the boy has, especially being dehydrated, but he manages fine, working up them at a regular speed. 

“In a minute.” Mark says, then he takes his key from his pocket and opens the door to his room. 

“Leader’s perks?” Ethan asks with a raised eyebrow. He steps around the room, taking it in. Mark resists the urge to pull him to the bed and just hold him for a bit. The high has still not seeped away. He’s alive. He’s here, in Mark’s room. The same room where just an hour ago he’d sat with his gun considering offing himself, not knowing the newcomer had been Ethan this whole time. 

“I don’t choose special treatment, they just do it. It’s kind of weird at first, living in someone who’s dead’s place, but I’m over it now.” Mark steps over to a large wooden wardrobe and reaches under his pile of jeans until he pulls out the large white hoodie.

“Here. Keep it safe, it’s the only not blood stained thing I have from before, not to mention the only evidence of what we were.” He hands it to Ethan, who unfolds it, and his breath catches in his throat, hazel eyes widening. It’s terribly cute. 

“Your unus annus hoodie. Mark, I can’t take this.” Ethan says, eyes glossing over quickly. 

“I had time to pack things before I left. Did you?” He asks, and Ethan just shakes his head. It’s true. He’d had time to pack clothes, and photos, and sentimental things. He doesn’t mention that he had to replace those things for food. That he couldn’t keep carrying around photos and items he loved before. That the hoodie is the only thing he kept. That he thought of leaving it so he can fit more cans of food had made him actually physically sick at one point. That he had actually let himself be a little more hungry for a while just so he could keep it in his rucksack. 

Ethan pulls on the hoodie when he gives up his protests, and Mark can’t help his eyes from flitting over the look. It’s big on him, not only because Mark had owned a bigger size than him, but it’s even more prominently big because of his weight loss. It falls passed his hands.

“It’s big.” Ethan murmurs with a cute little chuckle. Mark nods in agreement but doesn’t say anything, instead taking them back downstairs. He has to look away before he loses his control and scoops him up. 

Before, there was girlfriends and unrequitedness in the way. Reputation. Hate mail. So many reasons he had to put up his walls between them. 

Now, nearly all of those reasons have been literally killed off. Now, there’s just two. Unrequitedness and selfishness. Though he’s emotionally unstable at the moment, Mark won’t let his feelings show too much. Ethan nearly died, and it wasn’t even by the biggest threat in this world right now. To put this on top of it? Especially something that isn’t mutual? Just so Mark doesn’t have to be in so much pain? 

It would be far too selfish for him to do. So for now, he leads the boy out of the room and back down the stairs. 

When they exit the building, there’s people staring. Two teenagers whisper to each other across the street, staring at them with wide eyes. They were fans of them before. Mark knows they will want to meet Ethan, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm the boy right now, who walks with him, eyes on the ground, bashful. The teenagers keep their distance, respectful of the look Mark gives to every person who’s looking. They will all keep their distance, until Mark gives them permission to meet the boy. Ask all their questions. 

Mark brings him into the apartment building, leading him up three flights of stairs and to apartment C21. The Young family. 

When Amanda opens the door and sees Ethan, she immediately invites him in, overexcited. 

Mark hesitates as soon as Ethan starts to step away, hand reaching out to take his wrist uncontrollably. He doesn’t want to let him go. Not again. Not ever again. 

“I have so much stuff to do.” He says, but it’s almost like he’s telling himself so he will leave. He feels panicky. What if something happens while he’s gone? What if Ethan disappears for some reason? What if Mark simply doesn’t want him ever out of his sight again?

“I’ll be here. You’ll come get me in an hour?” Ethan says, trying to play it off so Amanda doesn’t notice his anxiety. He’s still so easily able to read Mark, despite how much he’s changed. 

Mark nods and gently squeezes his wrist, relief washing through him, immediately looking at his watch to check the time. 

“An hour,” he looks up at Amanda, “he’s a bit weak from his trip. If he starts to go white, please give him some food. He won’t tell you he’s dizzy so you have to watch him.”

“Of course, M. I’ve got him.” She says, and Mark nods and finally releases Ethan’s wrist and leaves the apartment.

As soon as he’s outside, he wishes he never left. It is true that he has a lot to do. He should finish his class that was cut short. He should head to the meeting to plan out their next run. He should help out at the various areas like he does everyday. He should supervise the expansion of the wall, making sure the still-in-training carpenters do it just as his instructions detail. 

Instead, he can only barely finish his class, rushing through the importance of measuring, tripping up as he tries to remember how to deal with conflict, mind terribly distracted, thinking of Ethan. 

He’s here. He’s alive. 

He only manages to stay away for 

half an hour before stepping back into the Young family’s room sheepishly. He sits next to Ethan and places a hand on his back, unable to not touch him. The boy’s eyes are puffy, tear tracks now his cheeks. 

“I know we said an hour but I can’t even think to work right now. You okay?” He asks.

Ethan wipes his face, shoulders stuttering as he takes a deep breath. 

“Yeah. Just memories I’ve been trying not to think about.” The boy murmurs. Mark wants to hold him close, but their mere thirty minutes apart has him a little more emotionally sound. He feels the feeling he hasn’t felt in 10 months. The feeling of pretending he doesn’t want more. Pretending he isn’t thinking of holding him. It was never a good feeling, and it still isn’t now. Only this time, he doesn’t have to mask it as much. The only person here who would notice the devastation on his face is wiping his tears away, not looking at him.

Before, he was surrounded by friends, family, camera lenses recording to millions, and a girlfriend who would all notice his eyes lingering for too long. 

Now, there’s just one, and the poor oblivious boy never noticed before, despite how many times Mark realised he’d been staring too long, or smiling at his antics too fondly. Still, he could notice. The only person alive who would still notice. It’s not better. It’s only a reminder of everything they’ve both lost. 

“Well you alright for a tour? We’ve got an hour before dark and I’d like to show you around.” Mark forces out, distracting himself from his own head. 

-

That night, Mark brings him back to the room after the tour.

“So, the bed should be good for tonight. We’ll have your permanent room set up by tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Ethan murmurs, blinking slowly. He’s tired, Mark can tell. It’s really fond how he rubs his eyes with his fists. 

He watched the boy kick off his shoes and crawl into the bed, still wearing the hoodie. Mark forces his eyes away and grabs a blanket from a chair near the kitchen and sits on the couch. 

“You should sleep in here. That can’t be comfortable.” Ethan whines, eyes droopy. Mark shrugs, situating himself on the couch, legs having to be folded so he isn’t hanging off. He doesn’t know how well he would be able to control his face if they were laying next to each other. They never slept in the same bed before all of this. He’s never had to test that out. Could always keep his feelings under control with a simple “don’t touch me” when Ethan got close enough to make his heart race. 

“All good. Go to sleep.” He says.

Ethan pouts cutely like he wants to protest, but the boy’s eyes slipped closed and his breathing evens out soon after. Mark stays awake for a long time, listening to the boy breathe, so happy he’s alive that he could sing in relief, but so dreadful that he is reminded of all these feelings he spent so long pushing away. 

He wakes up to screaming. Immediately, he’s out of bed and crouching over the thrashing boy before he’s even fully opened his eyes, hands on his shoulders as he shakes him. 

“Ethan! Ethan!”

At the sound of his name, the boy startles awake, chest quickly rising and falling in fear, eyes meeting his. 

“What’s happened?” Ethan asks, lying back down and running his hands down his face. His hands come in contact with the tears falling down his cheeks, and he looks at his wet hands in confusion, clearly still disoriented from sleep. Not fully awake. 

“You were screaming.” Mark says, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Sorry..nightmares.” Ethan says, voice hoarse, then starts to cry a bit. Mark’s jaw clenches and he glances at the window on the far wall. The moon shines in, covering the room with a dim glow. He can’t just sit around while Ethan is clearly hurting. He has to put aside his feelings for him. His worry and protectiveness overpowers all of his fleeting thoughts. 

Mark lifts the duvet and lies down with him, pulling him close.

It’s not something they’ve done before, but times have definitely changed. Ethan thankfully welcomes the comfort, trying to take deep breaths through his sobs, forehead pressed to Mark’s chest.

“I think if I wasn’t responsible for all these people I might’ve taken a gun to my head months ago.” Mark confesses in a hushed whisper, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see the boy’s reaction to that. It’s painfully true, and Mark halfway doesn’t really know why he tells him this. It just escapes him like word vomit. Perhaps it’s the familiarity of him. A person he spent every day with before. He can’t help but confide in him, the only person alive who knows him for who he was. 

Mark feels Ethan lean his head away, but he keeps his eyes closed. He doesn’t want to see the sadness in those hazel eyes. Doesn’t think he could control his words if he saw him so close. Close enough to feel his breath on his face. He might just lean in, or confess his feelings. Fucking hell, Mark feels insane. 

“I thought about it every day, but since the moment I saw you..alive and human..I haven’t thought of it even once.”

Ethan exhales shakily after Mark tells him this. 

“I’ve thought about it too..after finding my house overrun, and again when Alex...it just feels so pointless. What are we fighting to live for? How do we know there’s even anyone else?” Ethan speaks in the same hushed tone.

Mark’s eyes finally open and meet his. The thought of Ethan taking his own life hurts more than any physical endurance he’s bared over these past 10 months. Instead of letting their sadness continue, he lets the corner of his mouth lift into a small smile. 

“Would you be opposed to the idea of me sleeping here tonight? To be perfectly honest, I’ve had a hard time getting used to sleeping alone.” Mark says. It’s true. It may be a bit selfish, too, but he doesn’t think it’s too bad. He resisted before, he can do it again. 

“O-okay. I’ve had trouble too.” Ethan thankfully murmurs, eyes flitting between his. 

Mark just keeps looking at him, unable to look away now that he started. This is one of those times when Ethan could notice. He’s lingering. He’s lingering bad. There’s a tension in the air. Mark wonders if Ethan can hear his heart beating, it’s so quiet. Eventually the boy blinks and turns so he’s on his other side, back to Mark so he can sleep. Immediately, his body shivers.

Mark hums, watching the boy curl up on himself a bit as if that will make him warm.

“Cold?” He asks, voice uncontrollably gravelly. Ethan just shivers again in response.

“Sorry, no heaters, obviously,” then he scoots up behind Ethan, arm curling around his waist, legs pressing up against his, “this okay?”

Before Mark can even start to worry that he’s gone too far, that the boy will be weirded out and leave, Ethan shivers up against him, feet tangling with his.

“Warmiplier.” He says randomly, in that cute baby voice he always did during a bit before. 

Mark chuckles, nose pressed to the top of his head. He smells like their shampoo from the makeshift hospital. He wants to tighten his arm around him, tangle their fingers, bend his neck and press a kiss to his boney shoulder. He resists all of this and closes his eyes instead. This is something he never thought he’d have in his life. To spoon the boy. Hold him in his arms protectively. Feel his breathing under him. Mark could cry with how nice it feels. 

Instead, he’s so relaxed that he’s drifted off within minutes, those hazel eyes still fresh in his mind. 

-

The next day, Mark stands with Lilly in the greenhouse as she trims some basil leaves. 

“Of course, not that the garden isn’t hard work, I just feel like it won’t be too much mental strain on him. He’s been out there for the last 10 months. We were only out there for one before we arrived here. Can you imagine?” Mark trails off when he hears someone approach, and he looks over to find it’s Ethan. 

Mark can’t help but frown. Reaching onto the shelf next to them, he picks up a hand towel and uses it to dry Ethan’s dripping hair. The boy is soaked, teeth slightly chattering, but he looks strangely happy. 

“I got you a raincoat with a hood, you know. You really don’t want to get sick with the limited painkillers we have on hand.” Mark chastises him, worried. They have to save their strong drugs for the occasional surgery or excruciatingly painful happenings. A cold would barely get the boy an aspirin. It would suck, and frankly, Mark doesn’t want to see him in pain. 

“Sorry. Didn’t think about it. Haven’t enjoyed rain in forever.” Ethan murmurs. Mark’s can’t stay reprimandful for long, seeing the sparkle in those hazel eyes. He knows the feeling. Despite the safety of this town, Mark hasn’t even enjoyed any season’s weather for that matter. He’s too busy to.

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy it. Westport is one of the rainiest places in Washington, and November happens to be our wettest month out of the year.” Lilly pipes up behind them, breaking Mark from his thoughts. He blinks back into leader mode quickly, sort of embarrassed. There’s no doubt Lilly notices his soft eyes and smile towards the boy. 

Ethan might not know, but Mark has hardly even smiled in these long 10 months. His townspeople will know a change has happened, and they will know it’s because of Ethan. The rumours will probably be annoying. 

“Ethan this is Lilly, she’s head of the garden. I thought once you’re recovered you could start out working with her tending to the plants. Lilly, this is Ethan.”

“Ah, the infamous Ethan! You’re fine with dirt, aren’t you?” Lilly laughs, cupping the boy’s cheeks. 

Ethan laughs awkwardly, looking back and forth between her and Mark, but the man offers no guidance. He just watches the interaction with a smirk, unable to help it. It’s really cute, anyway. 

“Yeah, dirt’s fine. Um, infamous?”

“Everyone’s talking about you, hun! Nobody’s seen this guy make that face in 10 months.” Lilly stage whispers as if Mark can’t hear her. The man rolls his eyes, feeling his cheeks heat up. Ethan giggles and Mark decidedly doesn’t care what his people notice or what rumours they spread around. To see this boy and hear his giggle again, he’d kiss him in front of the whole town if he had permission to. 

“So! How long were you two together before the biters?” She then asks.

Ethan’s eyebrows raise, looking immediately to Mark for help. Mark doesn’t help in the slightest though, looking to Ethan and waiting for the answer. A flash of that last night plays in his head and he ignores that one with everything he has. 

“O-oh, um, we weren’t—we’re just close friends. We worked together every day..before.” Ethan says. Mark feels the boy’s eyes look to him, like he’s checking if that was okay. 

Mark’s got his little notepad out and he’s looking around the room and writing inventory as if he wasn’t intently listening. He doesn’t think he could hide the longing in his eyes right now if Ethan looked at him. 

“Oops, could’ve fooled me,” Lilly says, picking up a watering can, “well, I look forward to having you here. Get better soon so I can teach you all my ways.”

“I’m better now.” Ethan murmurs, and Mark completely ignores that one, not even bothering to point out his sunken cheeks and the fact that his hands shake just lifting a bottle of water to his lips. 

“Thanks Lilly. Alright, c’mon. You hungry?” Mark puts away his notepad and steps down between the aisle of plants, leading Ethan back outside. They stand under the overhang for a moment.

Mark steps up to him and pulls Ethan’s hood over his head, decidedly not looking into the boy’s eyes. He can feel them on his face, though, as he adjusts the hood. It’s really difficult to ignore his feelings now, after thinking he was dead for 10 months. After wishing he had confessed before the disease for 10 months. After crying at night for 10 months with those eyes burned into his memory. 

So he steps away, pulling up his own hood, heart aching. 

They walk down the road, and everyone seems to be chipper despite the cold rain pouring down. As they walk, people greet them with smiles, clearly interested in the newcomer, but managing to not get too close. Mark is thankful that he doesn’t have to hold a meeting. He can simply give someone a look and they will know to back off. 

What he did to deserve that level of respect, he has no idea. 

They step inside of the restaurant, and Mark can almost see the smell of food wash over the boy, who inhales deeply, eyes wide. 

“We have a few skilled hunters who have taught us everything they know. We own chickens, pigs, cows, the lot. There’s also a hunt every day as the weather allows and a scavenge run once a week or two to nearing towns. We haven’t really been running out of food, we’re extremely lucky in that regard.”

Mark brings him to a booth in the back corner as he explains this. Immediately, Ian steps up to the table, always a little too eager around Mark for some reason. 

“Mornin’. What’ll it be?” He asks.

“We’ll have two meal one’s and two waters, please.” Mark nods to the Ian, who smiles, eyes flickering over to Ethan every few seconds. It might be jealousy or just interest, but it sparks a slight annoyance in him. He ignores it, knowing he can’t fault him. Ethan is not only new, but he’s being given special treatment by Mark, who doesn’t go around with lingering eyes on just anyone ‘round here. 

“Of course. Coming right up.” Ian says, walking away. Mark watches Ethan surveying the restaurant, finding a good few people’s eyes on him. Some trying to be subtle, while a few just stare. Mark watches his reaction closely, waiting for any small sign of discomfort. 

“Do they all think we’re dating like Lilly did and that’s why everyone’s always staring at me?” Ethan asks quietly. Mark taps a finger on the table, studying him, watching the boy’s cheeks redden as he pulls his sleeves over his hands as if he’s not used to having eyes on him. As if he didn’t have millions of eyes watching his own and their unus annus videos every single day. As if he didn’t easily goof around in front of total strangers before, confidence growing the longer they knew each other. 

That was before, Mark reminds himself. That was a whole different time period. A different era. They’ve both changed. 

“Probably. We did recreate a cheesy movie reunion scene in the street then sleep in the same bed last night. Is it bothering you?” He asks, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over him again. He would have every single person clear the restaurant if it wouldn’t be incredibly rude. 

“I don’t know. I just hope it’s not cause they hate me or something. That’s stupid, isn’t it?”

Mark feels his lip twitch a bit, amused. 

“A little stupid but it’s okay,” then he stands, crossing his arms as he looks out at all of the people staring, “if you have enough time to stare I’m going to assume we need more people in scut. Do we?”

There’s a cluster of voices, all either apologising or just saying “no sir”, and half of the people stand and leave, the other half turning back to their food. Mark’s always hated people calling him “sir”, not thinking he deserved that much respect, but he never cared enough to tell them to stop. 

Mark sits again and casually rests his arms on the table.

“Was that mean?” Ethan asks, cheeks reddening in clear embarrassment, eyes on the table so he doesn’t have to look at anyone. It’s cute. He doesn’t understand how they work yet, Mark has to remember. He wasn’t here during their hardships. 

“Do they look offended?” Mark asks, and Ethan peeks over his shoulder to look back over the room. Mark does as well, finding what he knew he’d see. Everyone is just doing their own thing. Some are eating, some are reading. A teenager and a child in the corner are laughing as they share a joke. It’s as if nothing even happened.

“No..I suppose not.” Ethan says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Mark tilts his head, watching him. He wonders if Ethan notices his constant staring now. Does he think it’s weird?

“You’ll get used to the dynamic. None of these people knew me before. They don’t have anything to compare to. A lot has changed.” Mark looks away, out of the windows at the pouring rain, much like he did the day before he knew Ethan was here. So much has changed in so little time. Last time he sat here looking out of the window, he was thinking of how pointless everything is. How much he would just rather not continue. 

“Hey..you never told me what you had to—“ Ethan’s voice brings him out of his head, but he’s interrupted by Ian coming back with their food and bottles of water, and Ethan’s promptly distracted, stomach growling audibly. They share a smile and dig in immediately, and Ethan’s question is forgotten by the both of them.

-

Stepping quietly through the abandoned Walgreens, Mark listens for movement. He only hears the group, packing their bags with still good food or medical supplies. Anything they can find, really. 

Mark gets to the back of the store. Not having seen any biters, he puts his knife back into its holder on his belt and spots something on the shelf. 

It’s those fujifilm Polaroid cameras that mainly younger people were into before. There’s a few different options. A cream, a pink, a green one. Mark smiles when he moves them aside and finds a baby blue one. It’s perfect. They usually don’t bother with gifts, too focused on survival, but Mark can’t help himself. Opening his rucksack, he places the camera into it and takes the singular box of extra film that’s there. Glancing at the price, Mark rolls his eyes. Far too expensive in his opinion, but whatever. 

Then he finds his way to the batteries and tosses in a few packages of AA’s so the boy will never have to worry about the camera dying off. 

Perhaps if he’d been on a more high alert, not so distracted by thinking of how Ethan would react to a gift, he would’ve noticed Trey opening the employee back room door, and would have assisted him. Never explore a new room alone. It’s one of their most enforced rules. 

But he doesn’t notice. Not until he hears Trey’s screams as the man is piled on by two biters. 

-

Mark steps into his room, covered in blood, pissed off. He doesn’t say a word to Ethan who’s sitting on the bed, instead dropping his bag and heading immediately to the toilet where he starts the shower. He hardly waits for it to warm up, shedding his blood covered clothes. It doesn’t get very warm anyway, due to their makeshift plumbing system only hooked up to one shitty heater. It’s warm enough to not be freezing, so it’s fine. 

He only showers for two minutes, scrubbing the blood and sweat from himself. Maybe he would cry if he had it in him right now. He can’t. He’s only angry at himself. He’s their leader. He should always be on alert, especially on scavenge runs. 

He steps out of the room when he’s done, just in briefs, drying his hair with a towel. Ethan’s seen him naked on a good few occasions that Mark tries not to remember too closely. Filming those videos were especially painful, seeing the boy on display like that did wonders to his heart. Anyway, he doesn’t bother with decency. 

“What happened?” Ethan immediately asks. Mark sighs and steps over to his bag, pulling the camera out before going to sit on the bed in front of the boy, handing him the camera and the pack of film with it. 

“The store only had one pack so we’ll have to find more somewhere once you run out. I figured you’d enjoy taking photos.”

“Yeah, wow. Thanks man. You had time to grab this? You were really bloody a minute ago.”

Mark lies down, arms behind his head, and sighs. Seeing Ethan’s face light up over the gift despite his worry makes Mark feel better, even with the events that have just occurred. 

“Yeah..Trey was bitten. He’s was with us for almost 7 months now.”

Ethan stops fiddling with the camera and frowns. He looks like a sad puppy. God, he’s so small now. Mark wonders how long it’ll take to get him back up to a healthy weight. 

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to get me stuff, you know. I’ll start work soon and won’t be idle anymore.”

Mark turns to face him and takes the camera, pressing in the batteries for him and turning it on. He’s sad about Trey, and can’t help but let himself talk unfiltered for a minute. 

“It’s not about that. I’ve spent so long devastated about all the memories we’ve lost, I just want to move on. Make new memories. I want us to look back at these photos in ten years and laugh.” He watches Ethan’s face soften. The boy smiles, and it’s the nicest thing Mark’s seen all day. Truly sunshine on a fucked up night. 

“I don’t want you to go on runs anymore. I worry about you. If you’ll come back or not.” Ethan says sincerely, then lifts the camera and takes a picture of Mark before he can change his expression or even pose. 

“Ugh, not me,” Mark pretends to be bashful for a moment, though he’s not. He’s always been confident in his own skin, “but hey, I have to go on runs. These are my people. Someone has to do it.”

Ethan sets aside the camera and the quickly developing photo and sets his chin on his hand, pouting.

“I’m scared of losing you.” Ethan murmurs quietly, eyes dropping to his lap. Mark’s heart aches. He’s lost so much. They all have.

Mark sits up and pulls him in for a hug, sighing when the boy curls up against his bare chest. Mark’s hand comes up to hold him there on the back of his head, fingers sliding into his thinned hair. 

“I’m right here.” Mark whispers. They sit there together for a long time, so sad about what they’ve lost. Yet, so happy they at least have each other.

-

Mark is getting dressed, peeking out of the window as he does, when he hears Ethan stir awake in the bed behind him. 

“Where you going?”

Mark shrugs on his black coat and turns to look, stomach turning when he sees the boy, cuddled under blankets, hair mussed, blinking his drowsiness away. He uncontrollably steps over to the bed and bends to the Ethan’s height, pressing a small kiss to the boy’s head.

“Council meeting. We are planning to expand the town to the next building over. That means clearing that building and moving the wall. It’ll be some work.” He smiles a bit, still just there. So close. Just a bend of the neck and they’d be in kissing distance. 

“What did you have to confess?” Ethan suddenly asks. Mark raises an eyebrow, running a hand through his hair, trying to get it out of his eyes. Maybe he should get it cut soon. 

“What?” He asks, distracted by his annoying hair. Yep, he’s gonna get it cut again. 

“That last night. You said you had a confession that could change everything. What was it?” Ethan asks. Mark can’t hide the realisation from drawing on his face. The man immediately stands, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves awkwardly. 

“Um, I have to go. The meeting starts in five. Get some more sleep it’s pretty early.”

“Mark—“ Ethan stops protesting when Mark looks to him, giving him a hard look. The man leaves the room soon after, away from Ethan’s piercing stare. He isn’t ready for this. Not yet. 

In the meeting, Mark is distracted, unable to think of anything else now. Now that Ethan has brought it up, he can’t but remember that last night, and the events that took place..

•

Mark and Ethan turn off all the recording lights and pack up the cameras after a long day of recording. 

“Alright, we got enough for at least a week or two of videos.” Mark says, loading the footage onto his PC. The boy doesn’t respond so Mark glances over his shoulder, finding the boy nodding tiredly. He looks like he could practically fall asleep standing. Smiling fondly, Mark looks back to his monitor. 

He jumps at the sound of a thump and glass shattering. Spinning around, Mark sees that Ethan’s now on the floor, eyes wide in surprise, covered in glass from what appears to be one of the lights. Mark’s at him immediately, picking glass from his hair.

“Shit, you okay? Don’t move, there’s glass everywhere.” Mark’s focused on getting the thin sharp glass off of the boy, but he can’t help the laugh that he can feel bubbling up his throat. 

“Don’t laugh at me. I’m so tired.” Ethan whines as Mark picks up the glass off of him, just frowning sadly, staying still on the floor. 

Mark grins and stands, tossing the glass into a bin and holding out a hand to help him up. Ethan takes it and he goes white when he’s pulled up, blinking rapidly like he’s dizzy, stumbling into him. 

Mark catches him, hand on his elbow. The other, touching his forehead with the back of his hand, checking for a fever as if that makes sense with a dizzy spell. It feels like the thing to do, anyway. 

“You actually okay?” He asks, voice serious now. No more laughter, now just worried and unable to hide it. 

“Just stood up quickly and got lightheaded.” Ethan says, still blinking rapidly. 

Mark goes to step away but suddenly stops, eyes on the boy as his movement has caused the purple light in the corner to cast over his face in a way that causes Mark’s breath to catch in his throat. Normally, he can hide his feelings. Normally, with a good amount of sleep and decidedly _not_ being close enough to be able to see the light dusting of freckles over the boy’s nose. 

“What? Is there glass in my face?” Ethan asks, hand starting for his face but stopping when Mark’s hand uncontrollably moves from his forehead to the boy’s cheek before he can remind himself not to. He hardly even hears Ethan speak, brain jumbled. 

He cups the boy’s cheek and feels himself leaning in. Ethan just watches him, eyes wide, not protesting. Mark could just do it. Screw everything and just go for it. All in. Not giving a shit about the consequences. 

He doesn’t. 

He pauses, thumb pressing to Ethan’s lips, stopping himself, literally blocking himself from leaning any closer. 

“I’m tired too. I don’t have much self control.” He murmurs, voice low, heart pounding in his chest. 

“W-what?” Ethan whispers at the same volume. Mark’s hand slowly slides from Ethan’s cheek to his shoulder, then he looks to the floor between them and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He can’t. He shouldn’t. He won’t. He has to get control over his action. He can’t fucking kiss his best friend in his recording room while Aria sits in her family home packing her suitcase to come back here. He has to have more self control than this. He’s resisted for this long, he can’t let himself go now. 

Ethan’s hand lifting up to circle around Mark’s wrist abruptly breaks into his racing thoughts. 

“What is it?” The boy asks when Mark doesn’t say anything.

The man looks back up and finally leans in the rest of the way, guilty, but letting himself pressing a soft kiss to Ethan’s cheek. He can have just that. That’s platonic, right? Ethan won’t look into that, right?

“I have a confession.” He says while he’s there. He’s weak. He should tell him. See what happens. The thought of his feelings being mutual feels impossible in his head, but just to get it off his chest. To not have to feel like he’s acting every time they’re in the same room. To be able to feel what he’s feeling without having to hide it at the same time. It would be so much easier. Would it?

“Tell me.” Ethan murmurs, hand squeezing Mark’s wrist, so devastatingly supportive. He almost does, but he knows he won’t, no matter how often he thinks about it. It’s not worth the risk. It’s not worth the hurt it will cause. It’s not worth it just for the small chance that Ethan will feel the same. It’s not a big enough chance. The boy is with Miley. He’s happy. Content. Mark knows this. 

A loud ding causes Ethan to jump in surprise. It’s the boy’s phone. He doesn’t move to answer it, so Mark reaches with his free hand into Ethan’s back pocket and checks the notification.

“Your Uber is 2 minutes out.” He says, looking down at the phone. He can feel that Ethan just stares at him.

“Well?” Ethan says, not moving in the slightest. Mark drops his hand from the boy’s shoulder and replaces his phone in his pocket, before walking over to the door and opening it, motioning for Ethan to step into the hallway.

Ethan does, and Mark follows him to the front door, where he watches Ethan slips on his shoes. It’s tense. 

“You can tell me anything, y’know.” Ethan says, leaning against the door once he’s finished.

Mark just stands a few feet away and shrugs, arms crossed. He doesn’t want to get any closer, afraid he will do something he will regret, like just confess right then and there. Ethan’s looking at him far to sincerely. Far too sweetly. It’s too much to handle. They’re both so exhausted from the long day. 

“It’s not really something I want to have a conversation about in 2 minutes.”

Ethan fumbles for his phone, clumsy. It’s cute. 

“I can cancel the ride and stay for a while. Overnight, even.” Ethan offers. Mark quickly shakes his head, ignoring how much he wants that. He feels like he might burst at any second, like he’s just going to fall apart. 

“No..I’ll wait a bit longer. Enjoy regular recordings and being normal first. I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m just sleep deprived.” He rambles a bit, then runs his hands down his face, stressed. He’s making it worse. He’s already thinking of excuses for later. Fake confessions he can give. Anything but this. 

“Mark..are you sick?” Ethan asks, eyes wide and scared.

Mark laughs, realising abruptly how silly this is. How big of a deal he’s making out to be. Ethan’s so painfully oblivious, but it’s helpful with what Mark has to hide. 

“No, nothing like that. I’m fine, healthy. I just worry what will happen if I tell you. It will change sort of everything and I worry it won’t be for the better.” Mark might be saying too much. Shit. 

“I’m really not good with knowing there’s something this serious that you don’t want to tell me. Here, I’m cancelling my ride.” Just as Ethan moves to do so, lights flash over the windows on the door, and Ethan’s phone dings again. 

Mark smiles and reaches around him for the door handle, holding his breath as they’re close again. 

“Get some sleep, you’re just as exhausted as I am. I’ll tell you tomorrow maybe.” He says, not opening the door because Ethan’s standing in front of it, blocking it. 

Ethan places a hand on his chest, eyebrows knitting together. Mark tries not to react to obviously. He hopes Ethan can’t feel his heart racing. Or if he does, he hope the boy doesn’t look to far into it. 

“I don’t like leaving you like this. C’mon, I’ll cancel and we can talk.”

Mark shakes his head, smiling sadly. 

“Once I tell you, you won’t look at me like that anymore. I want at least one more sleep with us like this. Come over tomorrow whenever. I’ll tell you then.”

Ethan’s phone dings. He pats Mark’s chest where he hand rests and thankfully gives in. Ethan’s always been persuaded more easily by him. It’s a power Mark never needed to take advantage of. He doesn’t feel guilty using it now. It’s for the best. 

“Okay. I’ll come over first thing.” Ethan says, then he’s out of the door.

Mark watches him go, seeing the boy look back at the house to see Mark is standing in the doorway still watching. He watches until the car is out of sight, then he shuts the front door and slips down to sit in front of it, tears forming in his eyes as he holds his chest where Ethan’s hand just sat, feeling too many emotions at once.

Ethan, on the other hand, presses his face to the cool window and tries to figure out what the fuck just happened.

Unbeknownst to them both, a woman just a mile away staggers into her children’s room, eyes empty as she bites into her son’s leg hungrily.

•

“What do you think, M?” 

Present day Mark blinks out of his memories, realising he hasn’t paid a bit of attention to this meeting. He apologises and focuses back in, pushing his thoughts on the back burner for now. 

-

It’s raining again. Mark is the last one out out of the meeting. He puts his hood up and heads across the street, entering the building, climbing the stairs, then crossing the hallway to the door. He unlocks the door and steps inside.

Mark sighs when he sees Ethan sat on the chair by the window, expression serious and expectant. He shucks his coat off, dropping the wet thing on the chair next to the door.

“That was long ago, Ethan, it’s time we forgot about it.” He says, kicking his boots off, dreading this conversation like nothing else. 

Ethan stands up from the chair, legs shaking a bit. He’s still not recovered completely. Mark’s there in an instant, helping him to the bed despite his dread. 

“I’m fine,” Ethan murmurs, sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed, “you said it would change everything, and you didn’t think it would be for the better. Well everything’s changed and not for the better so what’s there to lose?”

Mark can’t help his dejected expression. He stands up, shaking his head as he paces over to the window, putting some much needed distance between them.

“You..I doubt you’ll want to sleep cuddled together anymore if I tell you.” Mark bites out the words then runs his hands down his face. Fucking hell. He knows it’s going to happen. Ethan won’t let this go. He’s going to have to tell him, and it’s going to suck. 

“You won’t lose me. The sleeping thing is just for warmth. I’d probably have hypothermia otherwise. I don’t think anything more of it.” Ethan tries to reassure him, but it’s exactly what he expected. Mark laughs but it’s menacing. Of course he doesn’t think anything more, while Mark can’t think of a single innocent thing during the fact. 

“Exactly. You don’t think anything more. Look, I wasn’t going to tell you then and there’s no point in telling you now. In either situation there’s a good chance you’ll back away and back then you were my best friend. Now..you’re kind of the only person I still have.”

Ethan stands up, the shakiness worn off. Mark looks up to watch him, worried despite his embarrassment and want for this conversation to be over. 

“You have your town. I’m not the only person.” Ethan says, stepping up next to him to look out of the window at the people below. Mark doesn’t follow his eyes, unable to look away when Ethan doesn’t see him staring. 

“Those people don’t know me. Not the me before. There’s even people who were fans scattered in there. Who knows who’s still alive. The rest of the country could be on fire. Right now, you’re the only person in this world who actually remembers me as me.” Mark wants to look away when Ethan’s eyes flicker to him, but he doesn’t, hoping that maybe the boy will just see it in his eyes and Mark won’t have to say anything at all. 

“I won’t revolt. I’m here and you said it was long ago. Whatever you did..it was before.” Ethan clearly doesn’t know what to guess. Still so oblivious. Mark just smiles sadly. He could probably kiss the dude and Ethan wouldn’t think anything of it. Mark always thought of it as a blessing, now, he wishes nothing more than for Ethan to just realise. Get it over with. 

“That last night I didn’t sleep at all. I thought you’d know just from what had happened. I suppose I was better at hiding it than I thought. I didn’t kill anyone, if that’s what you think.”

Ethan just shrugs sheepishly, cheeks pinking. 

“Well I don’t know. How would I know just from that last night? Nothing even happened.”

There’s a whistle from the street below, the townspeople’s call so nobody has to come all the way up here for every little thing. Someone needs Mark for something. The man steps away from Ethan’s sincere eyes and heads back to his boots, slipping them back on.

Ethan follows him to the chair next to the door, where Mark slips on the wet coat.

“C’mon, give me a hint or something.” Ethan pleads, obviously a bit desperate. Mark turns and raises an amused eyebrow, adjusting the collar of his rain coat. 

“A hint?” He asks, then steps up to him and leans in close, pressing a light kiss to the boy’s forehead. Pulling back, he sees that Ethan just looks more confused. 

“I’ll be back soon.” Mark says, leaning away and leaving the room. 

Making his way down the hall, Mark tries not to be disappointed. If Ethan never figures it out, whatever. He can be just friends with him. He would be anything Ethan wants for him. He’s got the stairwell door opened, about to head through, when a voice stops him. 

“Mark!” Ethan calls, far too loud for the short hallway. He turns, startled at the shout. 

“You okay?” He asks over the distance, looking him over to see if he’s hurt. Dizzy, perhaps. 

“Do you love me?” Ethan asks. Mark’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and he shuts the stairwell door, taking long strides down the hall and up to him, hands in his pockets.

“Of course. Sorry I don’t say it as much anymore.” He feels genuinely regretful. He knows that either of them could die at any point during any day. He _should_ be saying it more. Why doesn’t he say it more? Is he really so caught up in the fucking minutiae of his own feelings that he can’t step aside and tell his best friend—

“Were you.. _ in  _ love with me?” Ethan asks, interrupting Mark’s thoughts running a mile a minute. His jaw clenches and he runs a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor between them. It’s enough answer. He knows it shows on his face. Ethan may be oblivious, but he’s not _that_ daft. 

“Oh...” Ethan whispers breathily. 

“I wasn’t going to tell you. The next day when you were going to come over, I wasn’t going to tell you that. I’d been thinking all night of alternatives to say instead. I was going to pick one. Even if I’d told you the truth, I wasn’t going to act on it. I wouldn’t have done anymore than get it off my chest.”

“Because of Aria?” Ethan probably just guesses.

“Because of Aria.” Mark confirms, wiping his glossy eyes, unable to meet Ethan’s. He doesn’t know if he’s ashamed or just plainly scared to see how Ethan feels about this information. 

“I never got any closure. She was set to get home from her flight later that first day. I never even got to see her again. I had to grief everyone and get over two people I loved at once while trying to lead all these people—fuck I hate complaining.”

Ethan reaches for him and embraces him. Mark cries a bit on his shoulder while they hug. He hasn’t cried about this much, too busy leading an entire town on his own to let himself stop and just feel everything. 

“It’s not complaining. It’s not like you can just talk it out with these people about this. It’s a lot.” Ethan murmurs, holding him tightly. 

There’s a whistle outside again. Mark immediately pulls away and takes a deep breath, wiping his eyes. He doesn’t bother composing himself too much. Nobody in this town would dare to ask of his personal feelings anyway. 

“I gotta go.” He says. He hasn’t met Ethan’s eyes this entire conversation and he doesn’t plan to. 

“Okay. I’ll be here.” Ethan says firmly.

Mark turns and leaves, and doesn’t look back, to afraid that he will see a look of pity on Ethan’s face. He can’t handle rejection right now, and he doesn’t know if he can later either.

-

He stays out as late as he can physically handle in the cold, guarding at the wall for a bit, then sitting in the restaurant thinking of what to say to the boy when he gets back. 

It’s really late. Eventually, he’s too tired to stay away. He trudges his way up to his room, careful not to wake the boy as he closes the door and undresses. He can only hope the boy is asleep. 

Mark steps up to the bed and stops in his tracks at what he sees. Ethan’s asleep, sure, but he’s shaking full bodily, teeth chattering, lips nearly blue, eyebrows furrowed. 

A strong pang of guilt hits Mark like a truck. He shucks his shirt off and climbs onto the bed and lifts the blanket, wrapping his arms around the boy and pulling him to his chest. Ethan wakes, blinking in confusion. 

“Fuck, Ethan I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Here, c’mere.” Mark’s blabbers, pulling Ethan to him, as close as possible, knowing that skin to skin would be best, but not wanting to ask Ethan to take his hoodie off. 

“What’s wrong?” Ethan asks. Then they’re touching everywhere they could be.

“You’re freezing. When I got in you were shivering like crazy. I got caught up working and meant to come back but—shit, can you feel anything?”

Ethan hums and seems to really think about it, clearly not fully awake yet. Mark could cry in his guilt. 

“I can feel. Hey...I wanted to talk. About us.” Ethan whines sleepily. Mark hushes him, pulling the duvet tight around the boy. As tightly as he can, and rubs his hand up and down the boy’s back, trying to warm him up faster. He’s still shivering. 

“Not now. Go back to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” Mark murmurs, voice strained in pain.

“You said that last time.” Ethan whispers, but his eyes flutter anyway, falling back sleep quickly.

Mark bends his neck and presses his lips to Ethan’s cold forehead, hand still rubbing his back. The boy is so cold. He’s still shivering, but his teeth are chattering anymore. He’s warming up. That doesn’t stop the tears from forming in Mark’s eyes. The guilt of this situation. He knows Ethan doesn’t have enough fat or muscle to keep his body warm. He knows they don’t have heaters. He knows that clothing and blankets aren’t enough for the boy’s currently fragile immune system. 

Mark just tries to keep his crying quiet, so Ethan doesn’t wake back up. He doesn’t fall asleep for a long time. 

-

The next morning, Mark’s putting a belt through his pant loops, getting dressed for the day, when Ethan wakes up. 

“Hey.” Ethan yawns. 

Mark decidedly doesn’t look at him. He didn’t get much sleep last night. Not much at all. 

“Stay in bed for a while. Your toes are yellow. I think you got frostbite.”

Ethan sits up. Mark doesn’t turn to see what is probably an angry expression. He might just start crying again. 

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” Ethan asks. Mark turns and does, unable to mask his self deprecation from showing on his face. 

“Because last night I was so nervous about seeing you after you found out so I stayed out working for longer. I left you to literally freeze for hours. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Mark feels his chin wobble uncontrollably. He turns away and steps up to the chair holding his boots and coat. 

“Hey, I’m okay. Mark, don’t leave.” Ethan pleads. 

Mark swivels on his heels and steps up to the bed, lifts the duvet at Ethan’s feet, and presses his fingernails of his thumbs into both of Ethan’s big toes.

“Can you feel this?” He asks. Ethan’s eyes widen and he doesn’t reply, but his silence is enough answer. Mark’s face pinches angrily and he covers Ethan’s feet again, then steps back to his boots and slips them on.

“You’re mad at yourself for leaving me so that’s why you’re going to leave me?” Ethan asks. Mark stops, head hung in shame. He drops his other boot and presses his forehead to the door, trying to calm down. Trying to get his head straight. He feels like he’s spiralling out of control. Like he’s stuck in a constant spin, going nowhere but getting so dizzy anyway. 

“I don’t know how to act anymore now that you know. I don’t know what the boundaries are. If I can look at you or if you still want to sleep here or what you want.” Mark talks to him, facing the door so he doesn’t have to meet his eyes. 

“Well..I’m cold. Come back to bed?” Ethan asks so sweetly. 

Mark stands there for a minute, then kicks off his boot, taking his belt off and his sweater. He won’t disappoint the boy again. He won’t leave him again. He will put aside his shit and he will keep Ethan warm. He gets into the bed but doesn’t move, wanting Ethan to make the moves, feeling like he’s walking on eggshells. 

“I need to ask..do you still feel that way? About me?” Ethan asks, still sat up. Mark closes his eyes, definitely not wanting to answer. His heart aches. 

“Don’t ask me that. S’ just mean.” He murmurs, hands fisted into the covers. He feels the bed move. Ethan has lied down next to him. 

“Tell me.” The boy pleads. Mark takes a deep breath but keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to see the reaction. He works up his nerve. 

“Yeah, I do. I thought I was over you after 10 months but the second I saw you again..” he exhales, shaky. It’s physically paining him to have this conversation. 

Ethan lies down and cuddles up to Mark, who finally holds him, stiff, not going any further. Not pulling him closer. 

The boy presses his nose to Mark’s neck, arm thrown across his chest.

Mark takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. Trying not to enjoy this too much. Trying not to let his mind wonder. 

“Does it hurt to be like this? You have to tell me your boundaries as well.” Ethan murmurs. Mark chuckles a bit, but it’s dry. Of course it hurts. It hurts to do this but not to be able to tangle their fingers together. Not be able to pull him in for a kiss. At the same time, it feels so good. To have him in his arms. So close, breathing on his neck. It sends a shiver up his spine. 

“I have no boundaries. Just a lot of feelings and thoughts when you do anything at all. Just don’t mind it.” Mark says, head turning so his lips press to Ethan’s forehead. He can’t help himself. He waits for Ethan to ask him not to. To tell him that kissing his forehead is a little too much. 

“I’m not sleepy.” Ethan sighs. Mark smiles against his forehead, yet. 

“Me neither.” The man says, then reaches out with his other hand to the bedside table, coming back with the book he finished just before Ethan arrived. He’s been so distracted that he forgot to return it. It’s a really light pastel pink colour. ‘Something Borrowed’. 

“We have a makeshift library here and I’ve been trying to read whenever I can. I finished this one. It’s kind of chick-flick like but it’s good.” Mark explains. It’s not the type of book he would’ve read before, but he needed something to do at night before bed so he wouldn’t think about how much he misses the life of before. 

“Read it to me?” Ethan asks, as he expected the boy would. Ethan’s never been much of a reader. He always said it hurts his head, that he can’t focus on it. 

Mark hums and opens the book, clearing his throat a bit, thankful for the distraction from Ethan’s finger gently sweeping circles over his torso. 

“I was in the fifth grade the first time I thought about turning thirty...”

-

Stepping into the room, Mark sees that Ethan is sat on the edge of the bed, faced away, legs dangling. He doesn’t look over, just stares at the window.

“Hey, you okay?” Mark asks, taking his boots and coat off. Ethan’s wearing the hoodie. It gives him a feeling he can’t describe, so see the boy in something he once wore. Something of his. 

“I keep feeling weird, or maybe bad. I don’t know. I think I need you to do something. I have to know and it’s driving me insane.” Ethan says, being painfully vague, then covers his face. Mark stands stock still, fully expecting Ethan to ask for his own room. 

“What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to kiss me.” Ethan says, the absolute polar opposite of what Mark expected. His heart skips a beat, brain shouting ‘YES YES YES’ so loudly he can’t think for a moment. 

Mark forces his body into movement and steps across the room, sitting on the bed behind the boy, taking a breath so he can feel a little more under controlof himself. 

“Are you sure? You don’t have to, I’m just fine with how we are. Don’t feel pressured to do anything.” Mark says, crawling across the bed to sit behind him. It’s true. Despite his annoyingly strong feelings, Mark would put them aside forever if Ethan just wanted to remain friends. He would be anything for him if it meant keeping him around. 

“It’s not pressure.”

Mark’s hand gently settles onto the boy’s back once he speaks. Ethan isn’t tense, which is reassuring. 

“You’re 100% on this?” He makes sure another time. 

“Do  you  want to? Sounds like you’re trying to convince me not to.”

Mark gets closer, both hands moving to Ethan’s waist, nose pressing to the back of the boy’s neck. He tries to move slowly, as not to overwhelm him, but it’s hard when he feels so frantic, so impatient to touch him all over. In a way he always wanted but never let himself have. Never even considered ever having. 

“I want to. God, of course I want to. It’s all I can think sometimes. I just don’t want to kiss you just for you to leave.” Mark murmurs, right there against him. Ethan unexpectedly tips his neck a bit to give him more room.

“Won’t leave.” Ethan promises, and that’s plenty enough for Mark. He presses an experimental kiss to the back of of the boy’s neck where he is, then slowly moves to the side, where he presses slow little kisses from his shoulder up to his jawline. His hands on Ethan’s waist circle around him, pulling him a bit.

Ethan follows along, turning and getting properly on the bed. Mark lies him down and crawls over him, holding himself up with one hand as he cups Ethan’s cheek with his free one.

Their eyes meet, and Mark searches him, checking for last minute regrets. Ethan looks nervous, but trustful. Mark doesn’t bother to hide it now. His eyes drop to Ethan’s lips. He doesn’t even want to know what his face looks like now, if the amount of want he feels is showing. 

Finally, he leans in and gently presses their lips together. It’s slow, apprehensive. He forces himself to keep it slow. Experimental. Not to overwhelm the boy. Don’t overwhelm him. Don’t go too fast. Don’t do anything to make him uncomfortable. Don’t—

Ethan hands suddenly move to Mark’s shoulders, feeling him there, slipping under his shirt onto his back. Mark’s mind blanks completely. 

Ethan is kissing back. He’s enjoying it. He’s feeling him. He wants more?

The kiss changes. Mark opens his mouth, deepening the kiss. He makes this deep grumbly noise that he can’t control and takes Ethan’s wrist, bringing it above his head and pressing him down, restraining him. He wonders if it’s too far, but Ethan’s free hand tightens on his shoulder. He likes it?

Mark separates their lips, only to press them to Ethan’s neck and work on a love bite.

Ethan lifts his chin, giving Mark more room to work with, mouth hanging open and making these breathy sounds that makes heat bubble in Mark’s stomach.

Once he’s satisfied, Mark comes up again and presses their lips back together. The kiss is dirty, now. Passionate. Mark’s losing control quickly. Getting too into it. The more Ethan seems to like, the further Mark wants to go. The more he wants to press. 

And fucking hell..does he want more. 

Mark keeps Ethan’s wrist held down against the bed and uses his other hand to hook under Ethan’s knee, bringing his leg up to Mark’s waist. The movement free’s some space for Mark to fit between the boy’s legs.

Ethan gasps as Mark’s thigh presses to his dick. Separated by their layers of clothing, but still just the right angle for that pressure.

At the gasp, Mark suddenly separates their lips, breathing heavily. He releases Ethan’s leg but he still holds his wrist down with the other. His thoughts are spiralling like crazy. He forces himself back, searching Ethan’s face for the reason he’s gasped. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. You have to tell me when you get uncomfortable. You need to stop me. I can’t even think right now.” Mark’s lips are red. His hair is mussed and he’s breathing terribly unevenly. What is even happening right now?

“D-don’t stop.” Ethan begs, surprising him. His hand grasps Mark’s shirt, pulling him weakly. Glancing down between them, he realises why Ethan gasped. 

Mark’s mouth slacks and he takes Ethan’s free hand, putting that one above his head as well, completely restraining him with one hand around both wrists.

Then, Mark pulls the boy’s leg up again, and presses their crotches together, on purpose this time. Ethan gasps again, then spreads his legs hotly.

“Off, off.” He mumbles, shaking his leg a bit. Mark released his wrists so he can use both hands to remove Ethan’s pants.

Ethan keeps his arms up where Mark was holding them, not daring to move them. It’s unbelievably everything Mark wants. He might cry with how much he’s feeling right now. 

Mark settles back down again after removing both of their pants, and when he presses them together, this time there’s nothing separating them. Ethan swears breathily. 

“Still okay?” Mark asks. Ethan nods feverishly.

Mark then circles a hot hand around both their dicks, so when he moves his hand he’s rubbing them both off.

Ethan outright moans, back arching. Mark presses a kiss to his neck again, closing his eyes at the noises the boy is making. He’s never been so turned on in his life. Never imagined this could be a reality. Never felt so unbelievably close so quickly. Ever. 

“Haven’t done anything in 10 months. Not gonna last long.” Mark groans, too turned on to be embarrassed about it.

“Me neither. F-feels so—“ Ethan’s eyelids flutter like he’s out of it or something. Mark’s movement go jerky a bit as he barrels headfirst towards the edge, watching Ethan’s mouth slack at the feeling. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking—oh my god, baby..” Mark babbles nonsense as he stutters and comes right between them. It’s the best orgasm he’s ever had. 

Before he’s even come down from the high, Mark’s wrapping his hand fully around Ethan and pulling him off quickly.

Ethan comes within the minute, back arching, toes curling. Mark watches in amazement, burning this to his memory. 

It’s quiet for a beat, before he rolls over off of the boy, catching his breath next to him.

“That was a bit more than a kiss. Fuck, I’m sorry.” He gasps, arm over his eyes as he tries to get his breathing under control, reality coming crashing back down. 

Ethan doesn’t respond, sitting up, looking terribly confused. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Mark says, sitting up as well, brandishing a wash towel that he uses to clean the boy up, wiping the drying come from Ethan’s front.

“I don’t know.” Ethan says. He looks embarrassed of all things. 

“I-it doesn’t have to happen again. If you didn’t enjoy it you don’t have to worry about it. We can just continue as we were. I’d rather have you here, it doesn’t have to be in the way I want it to be.” Mark rants, scared Ethan is going to bolt the first chance he gets. God, he went too far. Ethan just wanted a kiss. He overwhelmed him, didn’t he?

“I’m not leaving. I told you I won’t. I’m just trying to figure out my head.”

“Do you want space? To sleep alone tonight? To read? Anything. I’ll give you anything.”

Finally, Ethan turns to him. He looks thoughtful, but thankfully, not overwhelmed. Not angry or regretful. he pushes Mark’s shoulders so the man lies down, then he follows along, lying on his chest. Mark can’t help his sigh of relief. 

Ethan then reaches to Mark’s hand, lying on his stomach, and tangles their fingertips. 

Mark’s heartbeat picks up, his other hand tightening where he’s holding the boy.

Mark’s eyes are closed, but he peeks one open when he feels Ethan lift his head. The boy is smiling. He smiles back, unable to resist it. 

“I miss you.” Ethan says, eyes suddenly sad. 

“I’m right here.” Mark murmurs, hand squeezing his, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“No..I miss you from before. The goof ball who would send me stupid funny videos at 3am and laughed at the dumbest shit even if it wasn’t funny. You know your people think of you as hard? Strict? I haven’t heard your real laugh a single time since I got here. I can’t even remember what it sounds like.”

Mark looks up to the ceiling, sighing. To be real, he misses that version of himself too. Doesn’t even remember what it’s like. Doesn’t remember how it feels to laugh at stupid videos at 3am. 

“I had to let that go for a long time. I couldn’t be that person. I have a community that I’m responsible for. I had to get over the grief and keep us together. I’m trying to remember how to be who I was again, at least with you. I just find it hard when I feel like I lost so much of myself when it all changed. Like, I feel like I lost your Mark. Now I’m just this.”

Ethan frowns, releasing Mark’s hand so he can reach up and wipe the man’s tears away. Mark smiles, despite his emotions. It’s bittersweet, really. 

“I feel like I lost myself too. I thought of Spencer today and I just felt nothing. As if it was a past life Ethan who owned a dog, not me. Fuck, we’re depressed as hell.” Ethan sits up and suddenly swings his legs over him, straddling his waist.

Mark smiles, but it’s sad now. His hands feel up Ethan’s thighs around him, unable to resist. 

“Hey, I remember the you from before just like you remember the me from before. Maybe we should let it go. Let’s just be us right now.”

Ethan’s nose pinches adorably as he shakes his head.

“God, that’s cheesy. So awful. Remember when I would just simply pat your back and you’d tell me not to touch you? Now you’re giving me some Nicolas Sparks level speeches.”

Mark lifts onto his elbows so they’re a little closer. Ethan rubs his hands up the man’s bare chest, feeling him up and giving him these urges to kiss him again. 

“I really only did that for the bit, for the videos. Every time you touched me I couldn’t think of anything but how much more I wanted you to touch me.”

He just says stuff openly, honestly. He doesn’t bother hiding it now. Ethan should know how strong it is. His feelings. 

“What about when I sat on your lap during that Santa video? When I gave you a beard.” Ethan remembers. Mark had been so disgusted because of the dog hair. It had stunk so badly for some reason. His heart aches remembering Chica. He doesn’t think about it for too long, staying in this moment instead. 

“Thought about that one for days. Usually I can play it off but you were just right there. Honestly I was nervous I’d get a stiffy cause you’re such a bouncy little shit.”

Ethan giggles, playfully slapping his chest. It’s the greatest sound in the world. 

“Yeah right, you didn’t have these feelings that far back..did you?”

Mark lies back down, scoffing dryly, hands still gently rubbing circles into Ethan’s thighs. Man, the boy really was oblivious, wasn’t he?

“I was kind of used to it by then. It was a bit harder cause we were so intent on making our videos so close to the line of what’s platonic and what’s just straight up porn. It was easier before, when I only saw you a few times a week. After we started the channel, it was nearly daily. You just innocently did so many things and had no idea how it affected me.” He remembers vividly, hands tightening on Ethan’s thighs.

“Damn, you started having feelings before unus annus? Like when?” Ethan asks innocently. 

Mark looks away, sheepish. He doesn’t want to say. Not in the slightest. 

“C’mon, spill.” Ethan says, running a finger down the man’s surgery scar. Mark shivers a bit in the wake of his finger. He closes his eyes, a bit nervous,and starts to talk.

“The You’re Welcome tour. We were on the bus. I’d always just thought of you as cute before. Hilarious and silly, of course. Nothing more than that, really. I’d taken you in and made you one of us and you fit right in, despite being younger than everyone there. I’d just woken up. We were almost to Dallas. I came up to the front and you were at the little table editing. We were the only ones awake. I sat across from you and was going to check Twitter and you just started to laugh. I asked what was funny and you gave me the headphones and showed me the part of what you were editing. I don’t even remember what video it was but it was just some lame joke I’d made. I don’t know, it just sort of changed. I just sat there watching you edit and wondered how you would react if I just shut the laptop and leaned across to kiss you. It just escalated from there. I had more thoughts and tried to deny it but ya know...tour doesn’t give much privacy and when it was over the thoughts never stopped.”

Ethan seems to be frozen on top of him. Mark doesn’t open his eyes to check his expression, cheeks heating up without his permission. 

“Dallas. Mark..that’s 2017. That’s three years ago.”

“June to be exact.” Mark says, eyes still closed. Ethan leans forward, lying down on him, resting his chin on his arms over his chest. Mark hopes the boy can’t feel his heart racing with his confession. 

“I didn’t know it was so long. That’s..fuck that’s a long time to hide something like this. How did you do that?”

“I had a lot of denial and anger for a lot of the time. I was pissed at myself for thinking about you when I was with Aria. Then I had a few months where I went through a weird sexuality crisis. I’d never really had feelings for a guy before. Eventually, I just stopped letting it control everything. I thought if I ignored it and kept on as normal then it would eventually wear off. I’d get over you, or stop thinking about it all the time. Didn’t work, obviously. I was still working on it that last night.”

Mark finally opens his eyes when Ethan starts to brush his hair back from his face with his fingers. They just stare at each other for a few bated moments. 

Then, Ethan bends his neck and kisses him. Mark’s hands tighten on his waist, heart pounding under Ethan’s hand.

When they separate, Mark hums and smiles, eyes crinkling. It’s a glorious feeling. 

“I hope you don’t feel like you had—“

“I wanted to, shut up and don’t move.” Ethan shushes him, reaching for the bedside table, picking up the Polaroid and snapping a photo of Mark under him before he has a chance to change his expression once again. Mark suddenly has to change the subject, before he overwhelms the boy by saying he loves him or something. 

“Hey, you haven’t gained as much weight as we’d like, but you’re better. I was thinking if you wanted to you could come on the scavenging trip this week?”

Ethan shakes the Polaroid as it develops and grins. He’s so pretty. 

“I’d love to.”

-

Mark had found a lego set on a run, and brought it back for Ethan to tinker around with. 

The boy seems to start out fine, following the booklet and putting together the foundation of the castle. He quickly gets impatient, though, tongue sticking through his teeth as he reads the same paragraph of instructions five times, retaining nothing, before his ADD ass gives up and he leans back onto his hands, away from the project. 

Looking over, he catches Mark on his stomach, chin on his folded hands, watching him fondly. 

“What?” Ethan asks, pouting. 

“Nothing.” Mark says, but he knows he’s smiling. He can’t help it. 

“What?!” Ethan asks again, looking around like he’s missing something.

“You had your tongue out. S’cute.” Mark murmurs, all shy like.

Ethan frowns and stretches, hand coming up to try and rub out the soreness in his shoulders. The hem of his shirt lifts, revealing a sliver of skin between his shirt and joggers. Mark gets an idea, stomach twisting hotly. 

“C’mere.” Mark says, voice low. He lifts up, standing to help the boy up.

Ethan lets him pull the boy up without question, then Mark’s hands grip the hem of his shirt and hesitate.

Ethan just raises an eyebrow and lifts his arms so Mark can pull his shirt off. The man pauses, eyes not wondering but giving Ethan that same flustered look as before. Is he okay with this? 

“I’m starting to remember things I never noticed before. You would give me that look sometimes while we were recording or doing whatever. I always assumed it was the face you made when you thought I was being stupid.” Ethan murmurs as Mark leads him to the bed and has him lie across it on his stomach.

“Couldn’t be more of an opposite.” Mark replies, then swings his legs over the boy so he’s straddling Ethan’s hips, his hands coming to rest on his shoulders. Mark remembers back to the massaging videos he watched all that time ago. 

His hands begin their work, digging just hard enough but not enough to be overly painful. Ethan hums in delight, relaxing more and more by the second.

“Why’re you so good at this.” Ethan sighs the question after only a minute. 

“I did a lot of research about massages. We were going to record us getting them remember? Then the place said we couldn’t record in there.” Mark’s hands stop just at the top of his ass, pressing down there but not going any further. Mark leans down over him and presses a kiss to his shoulder, not sure of the boundaries, but god does he want to find out. He’s mad with it. He wants so much he could honestly go crazy. 

“Wanna try something. Tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable.” He says, then he gives Ethan a pillow for his head.

Mark slides Ethan’s joggers down, then his briefs, so his arse is on display. 

He then brings in another pillow, sliding it under Ethan so then his ass is up in the air. He waits a solid ten seconds before each movement, checking to make sure Ethan is still okay with it. 

Mark reaches for the bedside table, pulling out the lube he picked up on the same run as the Lego set. He had decidedly not told Ethan about this one, not wanting to expect anything, but god was he hopeful planning to the max. 

Once coated, he presses his wet finger to Ethan’s arsehole, not pressing in but definitely there.

Mark sets his dry hand on the small of Ethan’s back when he notices him tense up.

“This okay? Don’t let me do anything you don’t want. Ethan, you have to tell me what you’re feeling.”

“A bit nervous.” Ethan says, slightly muffled by his position, holding the pillow tightly under him.

Mark’s hand rubs gentle circles into his back for a minute.

“Okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” Ethan murmurs.

At the boy’s approval, Mark finally presses his finger into him. He pumps his finger a few times, then presses a second in with it, watching the half of Ethan’s face he can see carefully, seeing the boy’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t seem to be in pain. 

“Okay..up and around..” Mark whispers to himself, remembering the information he never thought he’d use, then he curls his fingers inside of Ethan and hit something that makes him moan breathily, the prettiest sound. 

“There ya are.” Mark says, dry hand feeling up the dip in Ethan’s back as he starts to massage that spot in him. He’s never done this before, but he admittedly has done some research on the matter. Only in incognito mode at 2am when nobody was around, of course. 

Ethan can’t seem do anything but make noise, gripping the pillow tightly, toes curling. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

“Fuckin’ hell. It feel good?” Mark asks, fingers moving back only to press against that spot even harder. Ethan just moans, hips lifting desperately. Mark’s mad with power, watching the boy unable to do anything but feel the pleasure he’s never felt before. 

“Answer me, Ethan.” Mark says darkly, dry hand suddenly gripping one of Ethan’s ass cheeks tightly before he can remember he’s supposed to not overwhelm him. 

“G-good. So—oh fuck. I can’t..” Ethan speaks gibberish. He’s into it, thankfully.

“That’s nice. So beautiful.” Mark talks mostly to himself, watching Ethan clench around his fingers with wife eyes. Ethan’s back arches beautifully as he comes, moaning his name. It’s like Mark’s hidden fantasies come right to life. The things he thought of before the disease, only when he was alone. In the shower, hand around himself, trying to think of Aria or any girl but only able to think of Ethan. 

Mark rolls him over and wipes him clean, watching the boy blink, spaced out as he comes down from the high. 

“I remember that anatomy video.” He says cockily, grinning. Ethan shoves him back, giggling. 

“I couldn’t even think of anything. Have you done that before?” Ethan asks, still pressing Mark back but following him, curling up with him against the cushioned headboard.

“Nope.” Mark says, not really silly anymore. It’s short lived, these days.

Ethan smiles and leans in for a kiss. Mark gladly accepts, fingers tangling with his.

Before during that first kiss, it was just testing the waters. Now, they’re kissing casually just to do it. Holding hands like nothing. Touching each other all over. It feels like a relationship. Mark feels shaky, forcing himself to remember that this could end at any second. Ethan could realise he isn’t into it at any point, then they’re back to like it was. So he savours every second. 

Lying down, he can’t help but notice it feels immensely right. Natural. Easy.

-

Ethan slips into the passenger seat of the truck excitedly, holding his axe like he’s a child with a lollipop.

Mark starts the truck, unable to mask his amused expression. 

“It’s only a 20 minute drive. Why’re you excited like we’re going to Disney?” He asks. Ethan shrugs, watching the other two vehicles pull out in front of them. They drive in a line towards the gate.

“I’ve been doing pretty much nothing forever now. I can’t wait to see something new.” He says.

Mark wasn’t wrong. The drive is pretty short. They arrive in the town shortly and park in front of a Walmart. There’s surprisingly not that many cars in the parking lot for a shopping centre that would constantly have a full lot in any town in any state before. 

There’s six other people with them. Everyone but Ethan carries a handgun in a holster, but they all wield melee weapons first and foremost. Noise attracts the biters, as they know. Ethan will probably get a gun at some point, but Mark knows he will need training first. He’s fine for now, protected by the rest of them. 

“Okay. The rest of the town is about a mile down. We clear this first and get anything we need. We have the truck so if we find a crib or anything bigger like that we can carry. Landon, you keep watch—“ Mark suddenly stops, eyes whipping over to the road. 

They all hear it. Noise. A rumbling. A car? The suspicion is confirmed when an SUV pulls into the parking lot, followed by two motorcycles, each with two people on them.

“We don’t fire first. Helen, Ethan.” He doesn’t need to say more than that. The woman, Helen, moves to stand halfway in front of Ethan, protecting him. Ethan looks confused, but Mark doesn’t explain right now. There were distrustful people before the disease, and those types still live on. Mark has had some in his own town. Of course, they never lasted long due to everyone else being the opposite, but they are always on defence when coming in contact with new strangers. 

The strangers park their vehicles and a group approaches. They have a few more bodies, for sure, but they seem to be small as well.

“Mornin’! We’re just passing through. Haven’t seen anyone for days now!” One of the strangers say. They seem to be all men, like some sort of biker gang looking types. They seem nice, though that doesn’t sway him. He keeps an observant eye, making sure none of the draw first. 

“We’re just passing as well. We were just leaving, actually.” Mark says. The strangers look to each other.

“You find anything in there?”

“We didn’t head in. Simply stopped here to regroup. We want to make it to California by nightfall so we should really be headed out.” Mark says, nodding his head, trying to respectfully tell the guys to piss right off.

“Weird. You’re just passing through but your cars are empty. Where’s your supplies? Do you have a camp around here?”

“We have an RV on the other side of town with all of our stuff. Had to come here to siphon some gas for it. We should really be leaving now, though. It was nice to meet you.” Mark gestures to the abandoned cars around them, hoping his bullshitting is believable enough. He doesn’t dare glance over to Ethan, because if he does, the worried panic will show on his face, and the men will go for him. 

The stranger nods, holding his hands up in a ‘okay I get it’ gesture. He waves goodbye and the group turns, walking back to their vehicles.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Mark starts to tell Fiona standing next to him that when they drive home they should drive a different route just in case they’re followed. He doesn’t take an eye off those men for a second, which is why he notices two of them reach into the back of the truck and pull out two large assault rifles. 

“Cover!” He shouts, and the group disperses as shots are fired. Mark rushes to behind one of the cars, returning fire as they’re shot at. He watches two of his group fall, shot. 

He scans the area, panicked, for Ethan. He spots him just in time to see Helen’s flop onto the ground, a hole in her head. Ethan is crouched next to her behind the truck, frozen in place, doing nothing to protect himself. 

The moment Mark leaves his cover, a bullet drills right into his abdomen. He could fall over. He could stop to feel the pain. He could bleed out and die. Only, he can’t. The men are approaching slowly, keeping their fire rate on full blast, and Ethan is a sitting duck. 

Mark stumbles over to the boy and tackles him to the ground. The gunshots fade to a stop. Mark, with all of his strength, clenches his abdomen painfully so blood will pour onto his hand , and he wipes it messily all over Ethan’s face and head. Once he’s spread it all over, he sprawls out over the boy, laying right on top of him.

“Don’t move, baby, don’t breathe. Play dead.” Mark whispers harshly, using the last bit of his consciousness to cover as much of him as he can, masking the fact that the boy hasn’t actually been shot, before he passes out from the exertion. 

-

When Mark comes to, he’s groggy. He opens his eyes and finds he’s in one of their dimly lit makeshift hospital rooms. Looking to his left, he sees his boy, perched on the rather uncomfortable chair next to the bed, asleep. 

“Ethan.”

Ethan jerks awake, blinking rapidly and quickly standing, stepping to Mark’s bedside before he’s even fully awake. 

“You okay?” He asks, rubbing his eyes so he can get a good look at him. It’s really dim in the room, only lit by a lantern on the counter a few feet away.

“I’m okay. What happened?” Mark asks. He feels heavily medicated, a little loopy but not enough to make him silly. 

“You were shot. You saved my fucking life, that’s what happened. You rubbed your own blood on me and had me play dead. You passed out before the guys left and I put you in the truck and drove you back. You had surgery.”

“Yeah it hurts like a bitch. Are the others..?” Mark trails off when Ethan shakes his head sadly, and he then remembers the ground just littered with the people in their group. He remembers more. Riding in the truck after he was shot. It’s really blurry and he remembers so much pain but he mostly remembers Ethan, driving a million miles and hour and pleading for him not to die while Mark confessed his love. He sighs in embarrassment, reaching for the boy, pulling him down for a kiss.

Ethan complies, kissing him for a few moments, before pulling back a few millimetres.

“I love you too.” He says, and Mark’s heart skips a beat. 

Mark feels his hand on the back of Ethan’s neck tighten, and he’s shaky when he takes a deep breath. He thinks of all the reasons this could be untrue. He could be in a coma right now. Or he’s in heaven, dead. Or maybe this is all a sick dream and he’s about to wake up and realise that. 

“A-are you—“

“Yes I’m sure.” Ethan rolls his eyes with a smile and kisses him again. Mark’s breathing all irregular, but he can’t get it under control. Ethan feels the same? Ethan feels the same..

Ethan feels the same. Mark can’t control it, now, he lets the word vomit escape. 

“I’ve been thinking..the people are set up here. There’s so many people that there’s far smarter and better people to lead this group. There’s someone in pretty much every profession. They could easily go on without me. Let’s just leave. Go to our hometowns and see if our families and friends are alive.” Mark speaks in a hushed whisper, conscious of anyone who could be outside the door.

Ethan’s fingers comb through Mark’s hair gently, scratching at his scalp, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“This is our town, Mark. It’s so shit out there, especially with just two people. You really want to leave?” Ethan speaks just as quietly. Mark nods.

“Yeah. I never wanted this job. To be responsible for a town.I just wanted to get to Cincinnati. I can’t bring all these people across country. There’s not enough gas, and nobody wants to leave. It’s safe here, but it’s killing us. Don’t you want to know if your family is okay?”

“You’d take us all the way to Maine? What if it’s worse over there? What if something happens?”

“Better then sitting around here surviving until we both eventually die on a run. Imagine. Just us two, on the road. Only responsible for each other.”

Ethan smiles, but he looks unsure. He chews on his lip and seems to think about it for a minute. 

“I’ll have to think it over. You’re really serious about this?”

Mark nods, squeezing his hand. He is. He really _really_ is. 

“Totally serious.” The door opens, and in comes one of their nurses to check up on Mark, make sure he hasn’t opened any stitches.

Ethan moves back over to the chair and pulls his knees to his chest. Mark watches him, nervousness swimming in his stomach. He doesn’t know if he’s more nervous that Ethan will say yes or that he’ll say no. 

Either way, Mark’s with him. Always. 

\- 1 MONTH LATER -

It’s 5AM. Mark slides open the gate on the wall, shutting it back when Ethan drives through.

Sliding into the passenger seat, Mark cranks the heat and grins far too excitedly for how early it is. He’s changed a good bit just in the past week. More smiley, more goofy. More, well, himself, really. He can’t help it. Can’t control it in the slightest. 

“Okay, okay, chill out a bit. Tell me you didn’t forget the CDs.”

Mark reaches into the glove box and pulls the CD sleeve out, popping in a Weezer album.

“Course not! Onwards and upwards!” Mark orders excitedly. Ethan smiles, apparently unable to contain the fondness from spreading over his face. Mark notices, chuckling and leaning across the centre console to plot a kiss on his lips.

“So happy we’re doing this. I love you.” He says, quieter now, chest nearly seizing with how many emotions he’s feeling at once. 

Ethan takes his hand, and the car starts to move. 

“Love you too.” The boy murmurs, and starts the drive. 

Mark peeks in his mirror, watching Westport quickly vanish behind them as they drive away. He’s nervous. Scared of the trip ahead. It will be rough, dangerous. A wild goose chase that could easily end in nothing but more grief. On top of that, Mark feels guilty, for leaving the town he built behind like this. Of course, he told Derek, and Lilly, and his most promising student. They have prepared for his departure, but he still feels a tad guilty for bailing. 

He pushes those feelings away and sings along to the song as the town disappears from view behind them, trying to stop his guilt from ruining his excitement. 

Ethan then reaches over and takes his hand, smiling, and Mark feels a sense of calm wash over him. Calm, and overwhelming love. 

He’ll be just fine. As long as he has Ethan, he can do anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this version added to this story, this fic is now my longest fic on ao3, surpassing the previous longest which has 24k words.
> 
> Thank you to those who pushed me to write this. It was incredibly fun, but now I can lay this one to rest, knowing I’ve elaborated as much as I wanted to.
> 
> Any thoughts would be so so appreciated 💚

**Author's Note:**

> Pls tell me any thoughts in the comments below! :)
> 
> EDIT: okay guys I know it’s only been a day but usually when I finish a fic I feel nice and ready to write a different one but for some reason I can’t get this idea out of my head..hear me out..how would yall like an additional chapter, the same story, but from Mark’s POV? Like there were times when I was writing this and wished I could write in what Mark was thinking during a scene. Would yall like that??
> 
> Pls lemme know in the comments. If it sounds like something you want, I’ll def start on that right away! 💚


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